


Lone Wolf

by Shadowblade217



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV), Rise of the Guardians (2012), Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: AU for Rise of the Guardians, F/M, Jackson goes to Storybrooke, Jackson is Jack Frost, M/M, Post-Season 3B of Teen Wolf, Season 1 of OUAT
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-07
Updated: 2020-11-09
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:33:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 58,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27426508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shadowblade217/pseuds/Shadowblade217
Summary: When Jackson Whittemore decides to leave London and make a new life for himself, he ends up stumbling upon a quaint little town in Maine. But when it's revealed that Storybrooke is magical and extraordinary in its own way, Jackson must choose a side and embark on a dangerous search for answers... about the town's true nature, and about his own shadowy past.
Relationships: Ethan/Danny Mahealani, Jack Frost (Guardians of Childhood) & Snow White | Mary Margaret Blanchard, Jack Frost (Guardians of Childhood)/Red Riding Hood | Ruby, Jackson Whittemore & Emma Swan, Jackson Whittemore & Jack Frost (Guardians of Childhood), Jackson Whittemore/Red Riding Hood | Ruby, Prince Charming | David Nolan/Snow White | Mary Margaret Blanchard, Red Riding Hood | Ruby & Snow White | Mary Margaret Blanchard, Snow White | Mary Margaret Blanchard & Emma Swan
Kudos: 6





	1. Change of Scene

_Oxford University_

_London, England_

Jackson Whittemore strolled across the campus of Oxford University with a smile on his face. His clear blue eyes were concealed behind a pair of Ray-Ban sunglasses; his outfit – a dark blue button-down shirt, beige slacks and black leather shoes – spoke of wealth, and his blonde hair was spiked up in his usual style. A dark green backpack was slung over his shoulder.

Jackson had been in London for about six months, and during that time, he had been hard-pressed to find any regrets about the city. He had no memories of living outside of California before he'd moved to the United Kingdom, and, as a result, his new environment was fascinating. London was completely different from Beacon Hills, his previous home; he had never lived in a big city before.

Despite his misgivings about London, Jackson had settled in remarkably well to life at Oxford. Although he was still young enough to be in high school, his parents had enrolled him in classes at the university, rather than to place him in the British equivalent to high school.

Overall, Jackson was enjoying himself; he'd been able to make friends fairly easily, and his schooling was excellent. Admittedly, his relationship with his adoptive parents still left something to be desired, but apart from that, he couldn't complain. This was his life now, and he was doing his best to leave Beacon Hills behind.

However, there was one thing that Jackson missed about Beacon Hills; his friends. He missed his best friend Danny, and the other guys on the school lacrosse team. He even missed the other kids involved in Beacon Hills' supernatural community: Scott McCall, Stiles Stilinski, Allison Argent, and even Derek Hale.

But most of all, he missed the girl that he loved more than anything else; Lydia Martin.

Jackson frowned, the only visual sign of the pain he felt whenever he thought of her. Her flame-red hair, her warm brown eyes, and her smile, the brightest thing he'd ever seen, haunted his dreams much more often than he would have liked.

She'd been there for him when he had been at his absolute lowest, transformed into a six-foot, reptilian monster under the complete control of a psychopathic murderer. Even when the Kanima, the thing that he'd become, had almost completely consumed the person he had once been, Lydia had been there. She had pulled him back from the brink, and saved his life – and, more importantly, his soul.

And he had lost her. They'd had two magical weeks after the whole Kanima mess was over, two weeks of almost euphoric delight, that they were together, and it was all over.

Then his parents had dropped the bombshell; that they were through with Beacon Hills, and they didn't feel that it was a safe environment for him anymore.

Telling Lydia that he was leaving had ranked among the most painful moments of his life. He could still see the pain in her eyes, no matter how hard he tried to forget.

"Hey, Jackson!"

Snapped out of his reverie, Jackson looked up, his eyes falling on Nigel, his roommate and one of the closest friends he'd made at Oxford. The older boy grinned, his green eyes flashing in the sunlight, and waved. "Come on, mate!" he called, brushing aside his bangs; his jet-black hair was always untidy, and managed to get everywhere. "We're gonna be late! Let's get a move on!"

Jackson nodded. "Right, right," he replied, following Nigel as the pair jogged off towards their next classroom. Jackson could easily have overtaken his friend – being a werewolf had its benefits, once Derek had taught him how to control it – but he had already decided to hold off on using his "extra" abilities as much as possible. After everything he'd gone through in Beacon Hills, he had learned the values of caution and concealment.

* * *

"The Brothers Grimm," the professor of Jackson's English Literature class called from the podium, "were the authors of some of the most famous stories of all time. I'm going to assume that most of you are already familiar with their works, at least in part." He smiled faintly, gesturing to the projection screen as images flashed onto the display. "Snow White. Cinderella. Sleeping Beauty. Pinocchio. Red Riding Hood, and the Big Bad Wolf. Just to name a few." Turning away from the screen, he took several steps forward, spreading his arms theatrically. "Now, I'm curious; how many of you would be intrigued to know that these stories were based on real-life events?"

There were quite a few snickers and muffled laughs at that question. Jackson, seated about halfway to the back of the auditorium, didn't laugh, but his lips curved in an amused smirk.

"Oh, no, I assure you, I'm quite serious," the professor assured them. "Of course, the writers obviously took a great deal of creative license, such as the inclusion of magic spells and things of that sort. But most of the _stories_ depicted in those 'fairy tales', as they're called, actually happened. Most of these people – Snow White and Prince Charming, for example – actually existed, once. They were normal people, obviously, without any of the additional mystique that has sprung up around the stories thanks to people like Disney. But the people themselves were, indeed, real."

Jackson raised an eyebrow. _Is this guy serious?_ he wondered.

"Anyway," the professor continued, returning his attention to the lesson at hand. "If I could have everyone's attention, and if you could all turn your books to page two hundred and sixty-seven, we can begin today's lesson."

* * *

"Can you believe that guy?" Nigel asked with a grin, leaning against the wall in the dorm room that he and Jackson shared. "I mean, really. Snow White? Prince Charming?" He laughed. "Yeah, right!"

Jackson chuckled softly from where he was seated on his bed, his back against the wall. "Yeah. Weird."

Perhaps sensing something in the tone of Jackson's voice, Nigel turned to face him. "Are you all right, mate?" he asked, his voice now softer than it had been before. "What's botherin' you?"

Jackson sighed, removing his sunglasses and leaning back on his bed. "I don't know. It's just… I mean, Oxford's amazing, but… something about this place feels _wrong_. Like I'm not supposed to be here."

Nigel shrugged. "Well, what exactly are you planning to do about it?"

After a long moment of silence, Jackson murmured something under his breath.

"What did you say?" Nigel asked curiously.

Jackson opened his eyes, looking up at his roommate. Most of his inner turmoil had suddenly, and rather abruptly, vanished. Icy calm filled his mind.

"I could leave," he said softly.

Nigel's eyes widened in surprise. "Leave? Why?"

Jackson leaned forward, sitting upright and locking his gaze on Nigel. Whatever this was, this feeling of strength and certainty sweeping through him, he welcomed it. "Look, Nigel, I can't stay here. Not after everything my 'parents' have done. I almost _died_ , and, instead of trying to help me get through that, what do they do? They ship me off to London, because they're too embarrassed by me to stay in Beacon Hills." He growled faintly, the sound almost imperceptible to Nigel. "I can't do this, man. I can't keep letting them control me like this. I'm done."

"So… what are you going to do?" Nigel asked.

Jackson grinned. "I've been thinking about this for a while now, actually. I've already transferred most of the money they've given me into an independent savings account, so they can't do anything with it. And frankly, I don't care about the money they still have; I have enough to start my own life, somewhere else, and that's all I'm concerned with." He looked back up at Nigel. "I'll leave this weekend, in three days; that should be enough time for me to get everything packed up and get out before they notice I'm gone."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Nigel protested. "You can't just _leave!_ What about all of your friends here? How am I supposed to get another bloody roommate, huh?"

With a chuckle, Jackson hugged Nigel. "You'll be fine," he said, smirking. "Invite Faye to move in; she practically lives here as it is."

Nigel laughed. "She does at that," he admitted. His amusement faded as he looked into Jackson's eyes, grasping his roommate's shoulders. "All kidding aside, though, Jackson… I can't empathize with what you're going through, but I can _sympathize_. And all I can say is…" He smiled, stepping back and holding out his hand. "Good luck, mate. I hope this is what you really want, and that you're sure about what you're getting into."

Jackson shook his friend's hand; he smirked faintly, but his eyes were deadly serious. "Trust me, Nigel; there are very few things I've been more sure about than this."

* * *

_One week later_

_Maine_

Jackson hadn't looked back from that moment onward. He had packed up his things over the next three days, finished transferring as much money as he could into his own independent account, and moved out of the dorm. He took the next flight from London to New York, taking all of his things with him. He'd originally been planning to take a second flight from New York to Los Angeles, with the intention of returning to Beacon Hills, but he'd decided at the last minute that he couldn't see that town yet. It would hold too many painful memories for him.

Therefore, Jackson had decided on another option; he'd heard once that he allegedly had some extended family in the northern part of Maine somewhere. So, he'd decided to see if he could track them down. After purchasing the nicest car they'd had at the airport dealership (a sleek black Lexus, as it turned out), he headed out, going north. He passed through Boston within a day, and kept going.

As the car accelerated down the road, Jackson smiled to himself as he looked around at the trees rising up on either side of the road, and the cloud-filled sky overhead. He rolled down the driver's-side window, letting a rush of cool air pour into the car as the rumble of thunder echoed in the distance. Jackson, being a werewolf, ignored the cold; he could barely feel it.

He would miss Nigel and the other friends he'd made in London, of course, but he'd been right; staying there was suffocating him. Right now, driving down a winding road through the dense forest, he felt better than he had for a long time.

That was when Jackson saw something ahead of him, by the side of the road; a large, wooden sign.

"Oh, thank god," he muttered to himself. It had been hours since he'd seen any other signs of civilization, and he'd begun to fear that he had gotten himself lost.

Pulling up next to the sign, Jackson blinked in curiosity as he leaned over to get a closer look at it.

In large cursive letters, the sign spelled out the words _Welcome to Storybrooke_.

Jackson frowned pensively.

"Storybrooke," he muttered. "I guess it would be too much to hope for a town with a normal name." Sighing, he stepped on the accelerator and drove onward, passing the sign and heading down the road. As he did so, he suddenly felt an odd tingling sensation throughout his body, as if an electrical current was running over his skin. It lasted for a few seconds, and then faded away.

Jackson shook his head, ignoring the odd sensation, and drove on.

_A town called Storybrooke, in the middle of the woods, miles from any other signs of civilization._

_Something tells me this should be interesting._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To explain where this story is located time-wise: relative to the Teen Wolf timeline, it takes place at about the start of Season 3B. Relative to the OUAT timeline, Jackson will arrive in Storybrooke during the events of Season 1, Episode 10, "7:15 A.M."


	2. Storybrooke

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jackson arrives in Storybrooke in the present-day, and a more mysterious story begins in the Enchanted Forest's past.

_Long ago, in a faraway land…_

The large pond was calm and quiet. About half of the pond was frozen over, the ice thick enough to walk on in most places; the water of the other half was still, with only the occasional ripple disturbing the mirror-like image of the moonlit sky overhead.

Then, quite abruptly, the surface of the water burst upwards with a loud splash, as a pair of hands broke the surface, grasping the edge of the ice. They were followed quickly by two muscular arms, and then by a head and shoulders.

Gasping and coughing up water, a young man hauled himself out onto the ice, crawling painfully across the frozen surface until he was out of the water. Shaking, he scrambled across the ice and onto the cold, sandy shore at the edge of the pond.

The young man collapsed once he had reached the soft sand, rolling onto his back. His face was lean and sculpted, with prominent cheekbones and full lips. His eyes were an unusually bright blue, and his spiked-up hair was a shade of blonde so pale that it was almost pure white.

Coughing weakly, the boy stared up at the sky, his breathing rasping and shallow. He blinked repeatedly, trying to make sense of his surroundings.

_Where… where am I?_ he thought.

Rolling onto his side, he looked around, examining the area in which he found himself. Again, there was nothing to be seen. Only the pond, shining in the silver moonlight; the dark trees all around; and the moon, hanging in the sky overhead.

The young man picked himself up, managing to rise to his hands and knees. He discovered, to his surprise, that, although he was soaked to the bone, and there was snow and ice all around him, he was not nearly as cold as he would have expected. In fact, it felt as if he wasn't cold at all.

And, also to his surprise, he didn't have the faintest idea how he had gotten there.

He frowned in confusion. _How… how did I get here? The last thing I remember is…_

After a long moment, his eyes widened in shock.

He couldn't remember anything. The first memory he could find was of waking up at the bottom of the pond a couple of minutes ago. Before that, there was nothing; only darkness, and cold.

He couldn't remember anything about himself. He couldn't remember his name, his age, where he was from, whether he had a family… nothing.

"Who am I?" he whispered, his voice rasping from coughing up icy water. "What… what's my name?"

Whatever had happened to him, he reasoned, he couldn't stay here; he'd freeze to death. His best chance was to start walking, and see if he could find a house somewhere that could give him food and warm clothes.

He managed to gain his feet, with great effort, and then started walking away, heading off into the forest. As he walked, though, one of his feet bumped against something.

Looking down, he was surprised to see a large tree branch lying on the sand, at his feet. The branch appeared to have been crafted into a staff of some kind, about five feet long with an intricate curve at one end.

"Might be useful," he muttered to himself, reaching down and picking up the staff. Leaning on it as if it were a cane, he limped off into the forest, his balance becoming surer with each step.

On the one hand, he had no idea who he was, where he was, and where he had come from. He didn't know where he was going, or why he had awoken at the bottom of a frozen pond to begin with.

But, on the other hand, at least he was alive, and – although it still seemed odd – he wasn't freezing to death at the moment, which was always a plus.

The rest, he'd figure out later.

* * *

_Granny's Diner_

_Storybrooke, Maine_

Sheriff Emma Swan walked into the diner, just in time to see Mary Margaret Blanchard, one of her closest friends, seated with her back to the door.

Emma frowned. _Didn't she say she was helping the kids with a science fair project at the school this morning?_

Walking over to Mary Margaret, Emma sat down across from her. "So, what happened to the science project?" she asked casually.

Mary Margaret jumped as Emma sat down, her eyes wide. "Emma! I… um… just wanted to, you know, stop by and get some coffee before I headed over there."

Even without her uncanny ability to tell when someone was lying, Emma knew that Mary Margaret was completely making this up. The young teacher kept glancing nervously around the room, clearly trying to avoid making eye contact with Emma.

Emma glanced over to the counter, unsurprised to see David Nolan in the process of getting his morning coffee. The young man didn't notice that they were watching him.

With a sigh, Emma turned back to face Mary Margaret. "How often have you been doing this?" she asked, indicating David with one hand. "Following him, I mean?"

Mary Margaret blushed, looking down at the table. "Not too often," she murmured. "Just the last couple of days."

"Not to judge," Emma said in as gentle of a tone as she could manage, "but most people would call that stalking."

Mary Margaret's eyes widened. "What?" she protested. "No, I'm not stalking him. I just know that he comes here at 7:15 every morning to get coffee." She blushed again, looking down as she murmured, "And then goes home, has breakfast and drives out to work at the animal shelter for the rest of the day."

Emma groaned internally. "Yeah, that's stalking," she said softly. "And it's not good for you, or for him." She placed a hand over Mary Margaret's, supportively. "I'm sorry, but you should stop doing this. It'll only hurt you."

Hesitantly raising her head to look Emma in the eye, Mary Margaret sighed in resignation. "You're right," she said. "You're right. I just…" She trailed off helplessly.

"Hey," Emma said. "I get it, I really do." She smiled faintly. "But I think you need to let him go."

Before Mary Margaret could reply, the rumbling sound of a car pulling up outside interrupted them. The sound was much louder than any car engine Emma had heard since arriving in Storybrooke; that was coming from a powerful engine.

A car door closed; footsteps crunched on gravel. Emma looked curiously towards the front door, behind Mary Margaret.

After a long moment, the front door of the diner opened, and a young man walked in. He was fairly tall, with clearly defined muscles visible under his shirt, and seemed to be in his late teens. He was wearing black leather shoes, blue jeans, a skintight red T-shirt, and a black leather jacket. His light brown hair was spiked up, and his clear blue eyes gleamed with amusement. His tan skin, prominent cheekbones and full lips combined for a fairly attractive appearance. All in all, he resembled a rich boy from a big city like New York more than he did the average resident of Storybrooke.

Emma had never seen him before; he was completely unfamiliar.

Mary Margaret, surprised by Emma's sudden change of focus, turned to look towards the door; her eyes widened in surprise, and she turned back to face Emma. "Who is that?" she asked.

"No idea," Emma replied. "Let's find out." Standing, she walked up to the front, intercepting the young man as he started towards the counter. "Morning," she said briskly. "Can I help you with something?"

The young man turned to face her, smiling faintly. "Uh, yeah, actually, you can," he said. "I'm just passing through, but in case you haven't noticed, there's a pretty bad storm brewing out there. And, since this town seems to be in the middle of nowhere, I'd rather not get caught out on the road in the middle of the woods during a thunderstorm. So, would you happen to know if there's a motel or something like that around here; anyplace I could spend the night?"

Momentarily taken off guard, Emma took a second to reply. "Yes, there is," she replied. "You should probably talk to Granny about that." She pointed towards the counter, where Granny had just emerged from the back room. "She runs the inn."

"Got it. Thanks." Nodding, the young man strolled past Emma and over to the counter, where he came to a stop in front of a very surprised Granny.

"Um, good morning… how can I help you?" she asked.

"Well, I was hoping I could get a room for the night," the young man said with a smile.

Granny's eyes widened in astonishment. "A… a room? Really?"

"Yeah." He indicated the clouds outside the window with one hand. "I'd rather not get caught out in that tonight, so a room would be very helpful. Would you happen to have one open?"

"I… yes! Definitely!" Granny said eagerly, rummaging through the drawers of the counter until she found a ledger and a pen. "Would you like a square view or a forest view?"

"Hmm…" The young man considered that for a moment, then smiled. "Forest, I think."

"Well, okay, then. What's the name?" Granny poised her pen over the ledger.

"Jackson. Jackson Whittemore."

Nodding, Granny quickly scribbled down the name on the ledger, then produced a key from her pocket and handed it to the young man. "The inn's right next door; you're in Room 3. Upstairs from the front room, second door on your left. I'll send Ruby over to help you get settled in."

The young man – Jackson – nodded. "Thanks, I appreciate it." Taking the key, he turned and left the diner, nodding to Emma as he passed her. The front door closed behind him.

"I might be wrong about this," David mused from where he was standing by the counter, "but this town doesn't usually get a lot of visitors, does it?"

"No," Granny answered, "it doesn't. Actually, now that I think about it… only three people come to mind. That guy who checked in last night; Emma; and now this boy."

Emma raised an eyebrow as she turned to face Granny. "That's _it?_ Really?"

Granny nodded. "Yes; you three are the only visitors who've checked into the inn for a long time."

Emma frowned, gazing after Jackson as he headed back towards his car. She felt a momentary chill run down her spine.

Something wasn't right about that kid.

And she was going to find out what it was.

* * *

_Granny's Inn_

The inn was pretty much exactly what Jackson had been expecting; a fairly quaint little place, with all of the classic small-town charm.

Jackson knocked on the front door and gently opened it, stepping inside and glancing around. "Hello?" he called, walking into the front room and tapping on the front counter. "Anyone here?" He remembered that Granny had said something about sending "Ruby" over to help him find his room, but there was clearly no one here.

"Can I help you?" a girl's voice asked from directly behind him.

Jackson whipped around, his eyes wide in surprise. _What the hell?_ No one should have been able to sneak up on him without his acute hearing picking them up.

The girl standing behind him was slightly shorter than he was, with shoulder-length dark hair streaked with red. Her eyes were light green, which went well with her dark hair and pale skin. She was wearing a white, tied-off top and white-and-red shorts that ended above her knees. All in all, the word "knockout" could safely be used to describe her.

Jackson grinned, still feeling slightly uneasy that she'd been able to sneak up behind him without his noticing. "You're Ruby, I presume."

"Yep," she replied coolly, looking him up and down. "And you are…?"

"I'm Jackson," he replied with a smirk. "Jackson Whittemore. I was told that I'm in Room 3; could you show me where that is?"

Ruby nodded. "Sure; follow me. First, though; did you have any bags in the car?"

"Yeah; hang on, I'll get them." Jackson ducked out the door before she could say anything, hurrying over to his car. He popped the trunk of the black Lexus, lifting a suitcase out with each hand. Setting down one suitcase, he closed the trunk, then turned and walked back to the front door of the inn.

Ruby was waiting when he walked back into the room. "About time," she commented.

"Hey, you try lifting these," Jackson countered. It was actually a lot easier than he let on; his superhuman strength made lifting the suitcases as easy as if they'd been empty. Their size still made it somewhat awkward to get them through the doorway.

Ruby snorted. "Whatever. Come on; your room's this way."

Jackson followed her up a flight of stairs and down a hallway, until she came to a stop in front of a door marked with the number 3. Setting down his suitcases, Jackson removed the key Granny had given him from his pocket, unlocked the door, and opened it.

The room was pleasant enough; there was a bed, a small nightstand, a dresser with a television on top of it, and a closet with a full-length mirror. A sliding glass door in one wall offered a view of the forest outside.

"Let me know if you need anything," Ruby said. "Welcome to Storybrooke." She turned with a wink and sauntered out of the room, obviously heading back to the diner.

Jackson smirked, closing the door behind her and then lifting his suitcases onto the bed.

"Interesting place," he murmured to himself, glancing out through the glass door into the forest. "I have a feeling I'm going to like it here."


	3. Chance Encounters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The young man in the Enchanted Forest meets a fellow traveler, and Jackson crosses paths with Henry Mills.

_In a faraway land…_

The young man continued walking, trudging wearily through the dark forest. Only the moon, still floating in the sky overhead and gleaming silver, illuminated his surroundings.

As he walked, leaning on the staff to support himself, the young man continued to think, trying as hard as he could to find something, any memory that could tell him who he was. So far, he had found nothing; his past was still a complete blank. He had discovered, however, that his affliction appeared to be quite specific. He could still remember background information; he knew how to speak, how to walk, and everything of that sort. He knew what different things were called, and lots of other information about animals, the seasons, and so on.

The only things he _couldn't_ remember, in fact, were those directly related to his own past. He couldn't remember his name, where he was from, or anything else about himself. He had no idea how he'd ended up at the bottom of that pond, or if he had a family who would be looking for him.

So he kept walking, knowing that eventually, he would have to run across someone who could help him. Besides, there was really nothing else to do.

After what felt like an eternity, but was probably only a couple of hours, something finally presented itself to him: a faint orange light, filtering through the trees from somewhere far ahead. It could only originate from a small fire, which meant that there was someone up ahead.

Gripping the staff tightly, the young man started towards the light. Hopefully, whoever was at that fire would be friendly.

It took a few minutes for him to reach the source of the light, but he finally made it. Slipping into the shadows behind a tree, he glanced out in an attempt to identify the person responsible for the fire.

He had been right, as it turned out; the light was emanating from a decent-sized campfire. Seated beside the fire was a young woman with shoulder-length, dark curly hair. Her face was turned away from him, as she gazed into the crackling flames.

The young man shifted position slightly, attempting to see her face. In the process, he accidentally stepped on a small branch lying at his feet.

The _crack_ of the branch breaking echoed through the surrounding trees.

Instantly, the young woman seated by the fire scrambled to her feet and whirled, drawing a long knife from a sheath at her waist. "Who's there?" she demanded. "Show yourself!"

The young man froze, not moving a muscle to avoid giving away his position. After a long moment, however, he made his decision. He was exhausted, and badly needed food, water, and warmth. Besides, this woman didn't seem particularly dangerous. Tightening his hold on his staff, he slowly stepped out from behind the tree.

The woman's eyes locked on him the instant he showed himself. She took a step back, raising her knife, but he raised a hand to stop her.

"Please, don't. I'm not going to hurt you." He coughed, leaning on his staff. "I just… I've lost my way, and I am in dire need of warmth and food. I saw your fire, and I was hoping you could help me."

Her expression didn't waver. "And why should I believe anything you say?" she said coolly. "You could easily be here to kill me."

The young man actually chuckled at that, the sound harsh and grating. "If I wanted to harm you, I wouldn't have shown myself when you asked. And I would have brought a better weapon than a stick." He hefted his staff as if to show it off, grinning weakly, but immediately staggered and had to lean on the staff again to regain his balance.

She raised an eyebrow. "Fair point. What happened to you?"

"I…" he paused, coughing again. "I fell through the ice of a frozen pond," he continued after he regained his breath, deciding to bend the truth a little so he didn't sound insane. "I managed to get out, but I became completely lost. I've been wandering around out here for hours, and I finally saw a fire – yours – and went towards it." He held out his free hand, speaking as earnestly as possible. "I mean you no harm, I swear it. I only ask for some food, to sit by your fire and warm myself, and directions to the nearest town. Then I will leave you in peace."

The woman considered that for a moment, and then sighed. "All right; you may sit by the fire. But I'll be watching you."

"Thank you," the young man said, smiling as he walked over to the girl and sat down as close to the fire as possible, craving the warmth. Even though, somehow, he still didn't really feel the cold, the heat of the flames was irresistible.

"What's your name?" the young woman asked, as she sat down on the other side of the fire, glancing at him warily.

The young man cast back into his memories once again, but, as ever, he found nothing. He sighed, staring into the fire. "To be perfectly honest with you… I don't know."

She scoffed. "As if I would believe that. How could you not know your name?"

Looking up at her, the young man chuckled briefly. "That's the least of it. I can't remember _anything_ about myself. My name, my age, where I come from, whether I have a family… it's all gone. It's as if all of my memories – everything I am – have been erased." He leaned closer to the fire, brushing a thin coating of frost off of the brown leather jacket he wore. "Everything is gone. I woke up in the forest just a few hours ago, with no idea who or where I was. I started searching for someone who could tell me, and that search eventually led me to your fire."

The woman had remained silent during his account; however, her frown had softened, and much of her hostility had dissolved from behind her eyes.

"There's a village about half a day's journey from here," she said after a long pause. "I can take you there in the morning. If you do have a family who are looking for you, that's where they must live."

The young man's eyes widened in surprise. "You would do that for me?" he asked.

She smiled. "It's the decent thing to do. No one should have to lose their family."

Turning, she walked over to where a canopy had been set up between two smaller trees at the edge of the little clearing. Removing a large sack from the shelter, she carried it back to the fire and, setting it down, removed two loaves of bread from within the sack. Tossing one to the young man, she bit into the second.

"Eat up," she advised, swallowing her first bite of the loaf. "We will have a journey ahead of us in the morning, and you're going to need your strength."

Nodding, the young man tore off a piece of his own loaf with his fingers, placing it in his mouth, and started chewing.

"Out of curiosity," he inquired, "what's _your_ name?"

She paused for a moment, her back straightening, and looked down at the ground, refusing to meet his eyes. After a long silence, she appeared to come to a decision, and faced him again. "Call me Snow."

* * *

_Storybrooke, Maine_

Jackson woke up to the sounds of birds chirping outside. He smiled, stretching his arms and rolling over in bed. Through the glass sliding doors, he could see sunlight shining through the clouds, illuminating the forest just behind the inn.

The storm that had hammered Storybrooke for the past few days was finally over.

Jackson, since he didn't know anyone in this town, had spent his time holed up in his room at Granny's, waiting out the storm. The only place he had gone was a quick dash through the rain to the diner next door for meals; other than that, he had simply laid back, reading a book or simply relaxing, as he listened to the constant rattling of the rain against the roof of the inn.

Sighing, Jackson crawled out of bed and stood up, looking around. The rain had stopped completely, but everything outside was still soaking wet, gleaming in the early morning sun.

Dressing quickly in a dark gray T-shirt, blue jeans and his usual black leather jacket, Jackson strolled out of his room and down the stairs to the front desk. Granny and Ruby were nowhere to be seen; obviously, they must be at the diner, dealing with the breakfast rush.

Donning his sunglasses, Jackson walked out the door into the crisp, clear morning. Walking across the parking lot to the diner while avoiding puddles of water, he opened the front door and ducked inside.

As he'd expected, Ruby was hurrying around the room, serving coffee and other drinks, while Granny stood behind the counter, taking customers' orders. Grinning, Jackson selected a booth in the corner, sitting down and waiting.

Ruby, of course, saw him; she arrived at his table a couple of minutes later. "Morning," she said. "What can I get you?"

"Scrambled eggs, with a side of ham and hash browns," Jackson said, reciting what was rapidly becoming his "usual" breakfast order with a smile. "And an apple juice."

"Coming right up," Ruby replied with a smile, scrawling down his order on the notepad in her hand and replacing it in her pocket as she walked away.

Nodding in satisfaction, Jackson reached into his jacket pocket and took out a book he'd been reading; _The Hound of the Baskervilles_ , by Arthur Conan Doyle. Sherlock Holmes stories had always fascinated him, and, as a werewolf, he found it amusing to be reading a murder mystery about a monstrous dog.

"Cool book," a high-pitched voice said.

Jackson looked up in surprise, his eyes falling on a young boy standing next to the booth. The kid looked like he was about ten years old, but there was a glint of intelligence in his eyes that belied his young age.

"Have you read it?" Jackson asked, tapping the book with his right index finger.

The boy nodded. "Yeah, my class read it in school once. It's a good story; I love mysteries."

Jackson chuckled. "Agreed."

The kid hesitated for a moment, and then took a step forward, frowning. "I haven't seen you around before."

"Well, that'd be because I just got here a couple of days ago," Jackson replied casually. "I stopped in right before the storm hit, and I've been hiding out over in the inn for the past few days."

The boy's eyes widened. "You mean… you're not from Storybrooke?"

Jackson grinned. "No, just passing through."

It was obvious that the boy was very bothered by Jackson's revelation that he was from out of town; he stared intently at Jackson for a long moment, then nodded slowly. "I should probably go; school starts pretty soon." He started to leave, then stopped and asked, "What's your name?"

Jackson raised an eyebrow. "My name's Jackson. What's yours?"

"I'm Henry." With that, the kid turned and hurried out of the diner.

"What did he want?" Ruby inquired curiously as she returned to the booth with Jackson's order.

"Who, the kid?" Jackson asked. He shrugged. "Well, he complimented the book I'm reading, then started acting weird when I told him I was from out of town. So, really, I have no idea what he wanted. Nice kid, though."

"Yeah, he is," Ruby agreed. "He's the Mayor's kid, actually."

"Huh." Jackson considered that for a moment. "You know, I haven't actually met the mayor yet."

"For your sake, I hope you don't," Ruby replied with a smirk. "Just between us," she stated as she bent down, lowering her voice, "she's a cold-hearted bitch. But she runs the town, basically, and most people are terrified of her."

"Sounds nice," Jackson commented sarcastically. "You said _most_ people?"

"Yeah. Sheriff Swan, for one, isn't afraid of Regina – that's the mayor's name – in the least. Hates her guts, yeah, but she's not scared of her."

"Sheriff Swan?" Jackson mulled that over for a moment; something about that name seemed familiar. "She wouldn't happen to be a tall blonde woman, would she?"

"Yeah, she is," Ruby confirmed.

"Okay, I thought so; she was in the diner when I first got here, before the storm hit." Jackson grinned faintly. "You're not wrong about her; that one's got nerves of steel, from the look of her."

Ruby chuckled. "No kidding." She brushed back a lock of brown hair, her smirk returning. "Anything else you'd like?"

 _Was that a come-on?_ Jackson thought to himself. He laughed inwardly. _You're getting out of practice, Jackson._ Obviously _, that was a come-on. Now, how to respond…_

"Ah... I think I'm good on food for now," he replied casually, before looking up at her with a faint smirk. "Wouldn't mind getting your phone number, though."

Ruby's eyes widened fractionally, and she grinned, a mischievous sparkle flickering in her eyes. "Now, why would I need to do that?" she inquired teasingly. "You and I live on the same block; I see you in here every day anyway."

"True... but this way I'd be able to get in touch with you whenever I might need to," Jackson replied with a wink. He'd already observed that Ruby liked to flirt, which was why he felt comfortable being this forward.

Ruby blushed faintly, despite herself. "All right, then," she replied, removing a pen and her notepad from the pocket of her apron. She set the notepad on the table, scrawled down a phone number on it in red ink, and then tore off the slip with the number on it, handing it to Jackson. "Call me." She winked and strolled back over to the counter.

Jackson watched her walk back into the kitchen. Shaking his head, he grinned, folding the napkin with Ruby's phone number on it and putting it in his pocket.

"This town's starting to grow on me," he murmured to himself.

Jackson inhaled deeply, closing his eyes and leaning back in the booth as he stretched; his back had felt a bit stiff. Sighing, he settled back into the seat and returned his attention to his food.

Then he stopped, his eyes widening in momentary confusion. His irises flickered bright blue.

When he'd sucked in a deep breath of air, his acute sense of smell had picked up something… odd. It was all around him, hanging in the air like perfume, but it was so faint that he hadn't been able to pick it up until now. It almost smelled like…

Jackson frowned. _A werewolf? No, not quite… but it does feel similar. But that's impossible… isn't it?_

He considered for a moment. _Then again, considering how far out in the wilderness this town is, maybe it's not so impossible._

His eyes flicked around, scanning the room, but no one seemed to fit the type, and there didn't seem to be a particular source for the scent; it was very faint, but there seemed to be traces of it everywhere.

After a long moment, Jackson decided not to worry about it. If there was another werewolf in here, he would have been able to tell within seconds.

Shrugging, he returned his attention to the food Ruby had brought him. But, as he ate, he couldn't quite rid himself of the unease in the back of his mind.

For the first time since arriving in Storybrooke, Jackson got a strong sense that things here weren't as ordinary as they appeared.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time, Snow and our young traveler are drawn into a violent confrontation with some of the Evil Queen's soldiers, and Jackson encounters another of Storybrooke's inhabitants.


	4. Cold as Ice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the past, Snow and her new companion get into a confrontation with some of the Evil Queen's soldiers; in the present, a nighttime run leads to Jackson crossing paths with another Storybrooke resident.

_In the Enchanted Forest…_

The forest was filled with radiant beams of gleaming orange light; the sun was setting on the horizon, its radiance lighting their path.

The young man followed the girl, Snow, through the trees. His limp had all but vanished, but he had kept ahold of the staff. It felt familiar to him, almost as if he had held it before, and it was comforting.

"How far away is this place, anyway?" he asked. They had been walking for most of the day, and he was getting tired.

"It's not far now," Snow assured him.

Sighing, the young man paused, looking around. "Wonderful," he muttered, and followed after Snow.

"What am I supposed to call you, anyway?" she asked over her shoulder.

"Believe me, if I remember my name, I'll let you know."

* * *

The sun had set by the time they finally reached the inn, about an hour later. The young man followed Snow out of the trees and up to the building, which was illuminated by torches mounted outside the front door. Several horses were tethered around the sides of the building, and the windows were brightly lit.

"Follow me, and don't talk to anyone," Snow instructed him.

Nodding, the young man trailed after her as she walked up to the front door, pushed it open and entered.

The first sensation he became aware of was the _noise_ ; a ceaseless babble of voices and laughter, loud enough that he flinched involuntarily as soon as he stepped through the door.

Snow's reaction was much less noticeable; she headed straight for the back of the room, keeping her gaze lowered. Clearly, she didn't want to draw attention to herself. The young man could fully understand that decision.

Lowering the hood on his jacket to partially conceal his face, the young man followed Snow through the crowded room, holding his staff close to his side in order to avoid hitting people with it. Slipping between two large men discussing a recent battle, he made his way over to Snow, who had found a seat at a small table in the back. She seemed nervous, and was constantly glancing about while keeping her head down.

"What's wrong?" he asked curiously.

Snow looked up at him, her eyes narrowed. "I'm not overly fond of places like this," she said quietly. "Too many people."

The young man raised an eyebrow. "Why are we here, then?"

"Because, if anyone who knows you happens to be in here, then you can go home," she replied. "If not… well, there's a town a few leagues down the road. We can try there next."

The young man nodded after a moment. "Sounds good to me."

They spent a considerable amount of time seated inconspicuously at the corner table. The young man made his way to and from the bar several times for drinks; Snow's nervous attitude only seemed to get worse as the night wore on, and he still couldn't figure out why.

The young man was also becoming increasingly frustrated as the night wore on. He had not seen anyone who seemed even remotely familiar, and no one else had shown the slightest signs of recognizing him. He was beginning to wonder if all of this was a waste of time.

Finally, after almost two hours, the young man was making his fourth visit to the bar. He nodded dismissively to the bartender, picking up a mug in each hand. But as he was about to head back to his table, he was distracted by a raised voice.

"Evening, darling!" a man's voice called out. "Can I buy you a drink?"

The young man turned, seeing that the man in question, garbed in a black uniform, was standing over the table that he had been sitting at. Snow was shrinking away from him, trying to hide herself under the hood of her jacket.

"Uh, no, thank you," she murmured. "I'm fine."

"Ah, come on, love! Live a little!" The man grinned, showing yellowing teeth.

The young man had seen about all that he cared to of this; he hurried across the room, pushing his way through the crowd.

"Look, I'm not interested," Snow said firmly. "Now, please, leave me alone."

The man laughed, clearly ignoring her, and placed a hand on her shoulder. "Feisty one, aren't you?"

"Excuse me," the young man said in a polite but firm voice, as he grasped the man's arm with one hand. "I think my friend would prefer to be left in peace."

The man turned, glaring at him. "And who exactly might you be, _boy?_ "

Smiling faintly, the young man locked eyes with the man, calm and unafraid. "Now, that's a good question," he remarked. "Honestly, I'm not sure who I am. But I _am_ sure that I'm not the type of person who stands by and watches something like this." He leaned casually on his staff, and his lips curved in a smirk.

The man's eyes narrowed, and he growled. "You think you're tough, boy? I'm a soldier in the Queen's army, and you had better show some respect when you're talking to me!"

The young man's smile faded, his face becoming serious. His stance shifted slightly, and he planted both feet firmly on the floor.

"Don't…" Snow said urgently, but the young man ignored her.

"'Show some respect,' huh?" He chuckled. "Well, I can't very well do that unless I see someone who actually seems to _deserve_ my respect, now, can I?"

That did it. With a snarl, the soldier swung a punch, aimed directly at his face.

To the young man, the soldier's fist seemed to be moving in slow motion; he easily ducked the punch, then whipped his staff around in a sweeping blow that knocked the man's feet out from under him and sent him crashing to the floor, flat on his back.

The young man's eyes widened in surprise. _Did I really just do that?_

The soldier picked himself up, growling under his breath. "That's it, boy!" he snapped. "You're going to pay for that!" He drew a long knife from a sheath on his leg and lunged.

The young man reacted instantly. Sidestepping the initial stab of the knife, he spun, hurling the contents of the mugs he was holding directly into the man's face. With a cry, the soldier staggered backwards, temporarily blinded.

That was all the time the young man needed; he swung his left arm, smashing one of the mugs against the man's head. The mug shattered, and the soldier crumpled to the floor.

Turning, the young man looked down at Snow. "Snow, are you all right?" he asked.

Snow was staring at him in shock, but before she could say anything, another man's voice yelled, "Hey!"

The young man turned, just in time to see half a dozen other men who'd been sitting at the bar stand up and start towards him. They were all wearing nearly identical black uniforms, and each of them was drawing either a sword or knife.

_This could be a problem,_ the young man thought to himself.

"We have to go," Snow whispered. " _Now._ "

"Snow… that's what you called her, isn't it?" one of the men asked curiously, his eyes shifting from the young man to Snow. "That wouldn't happen to be Snow _White_ , by any chance?"

Snow didn't reply, but she inhaled sharply, and that was enough for the young man to tell that he was right. The name meant nothing to him, but the fact that the soldiers had recognized her clearly wasn't good.

Apparently taking that as his answer, the lead soldier grinned. "As I thought." He drew his sword. "The Queen's expecting you, Snow White. I have a feeling she'll be very pleased with us for bringing you in."

The young man took a step backwards, placing himself solidly between Snow and the soldiers as he set down the remaining mug and raised his staff in a two-handed grip. Whoever she really was, there was no doubt in his mind which side he was on here.

The soldier raised an eyebrow. "You really don't want to do that, boy."

"Actually," the young man replied coolly, "I do."

"No, don't!" Snow gasped, but he ignored her.

The soldier scowled, but then shrugged. "Fine." Waving a hand to the other soldiers, he indicated the young man. "Kill him."

With identical grins, the other five soldiers rushed him simultaneously. The rest of the inn's patrons scattered, rushing to get out of the way.

The young man acted immediately. Kicking a nearby chair into the legs of an oncoming soldier and knocking him off-balance, he deflected a knife thrust from another man with his staff and slammed the staff against the man's head in the same fluid motion. The soldier was knocked off his feet and crumpled to the ground, knocking over a table.

Snow jumped up, drawing her knife and slashing at another soldier, while two more rushed at the young man with drawn swords. He spun between them, easily dodging their clumsy swings, and hammered one man over the head with his staff, stunning him. The other soldier whirled on him, stabbing with his sword, but the young man spun his staff, parrying the blow. To his surprise, the wood was completely undamaged by the collision with the sword; it was clearly stronger than it looked.

Snow ducked under a slash from a soldier's weapon, slicing her knife across his leg. He recoiled with a cry of pain, staggering and nearly falling. Jumping up, she kicked him in the chest, knocking him off-balance. Stumbling away, he crashed into a table and fell backwards over it, cracking his head against the floor and losing consciousness.

A precisely aimed jab from the young man's staff caught the soldier he was fighting in the throat; he reeled backwards, choking, and swung a wild blow with his sword. The young man sidestepped, and swung his staff with his full strength behind the blow. The tough wood cracked against the man's skull, knocking him unconscious.

The young man turned, just in time to see Snow hurling one of the two remaining soldiers headfirst into the wall. She hadn't realized that the leader of the soldiers was stalking up behind her, raising his sword to stab her.

With a yell of anger, the young man charged forward, jumping over a table. He hit the soldier with a full-body tackle, spinning him around and slamming him into the wall. The older man's sword slid from his hand and clattered to the floor.

The young man felt burning hatred rush through him. He seized the soldier by the throat with one hand, holding him in an unbreakable grip. The man grabbed at his hand, trying to pry the grip loose, but to no avail.

"You will _never_ harm her, do you hear me?!" the young man snarled, tightening his grip. "You're going to get your friends, and you're going to leave. Do you understand me?" His anger only grew, and he felt an odd sensation; a surge of cold, as if icy water was flowing down his spine.

The soldier gasped in shock and pain, clutching desperately at the young man's hand. His eyes were wide and terrified.

And then something very unusual happened.

As the young man's grasp tightened again, the soldier's skin began to change color. His previously tan skin began to turn pale white, then gray… and then _blue_. He gasped, flailing weakly in an attempt to free himself.

And then, to the young man's astonishment, a coating of frost began to form over the soldier's skin, steadily thickening.

He was being covered in ice.

"No!" Snow cried, grabbing at the young man's arm and trying to pull him off of the soldier. "Stop! He doesn't deserve to die! Let him go!"

After a long moment, the young man finally released his grip on the soldier's throat, lowering his arm and stepping back. The soldier crumpled to the floor, gasping desperately for air. The ice and frost that had been coating his face and neck thawed instantly, disappearing. His skin returned to its normal color.

The young man stared in disbelief at the palms of his hands, unable to process what had just happened.

"Go!" Snow snapped, pulling at his arm and urging him towards the door. "We have to leave, now!"

Startled, the young man turned to face her, his eyes wide. "Yes… yes, you're right."

Hurrying through the wreckage and past the bodies of the soldiers, the pair burst out through the front door of the inn and started running. They sprinted down the path for a short distance, and then cut off course, darting into the forest.

* * *

_Storybrooke, Maine_

Jackson was seated in his usual booth at Granny's, enjoying a late dinner. He smirked as he saw Ruby exit the kitchen, but averted his eyes and returned his attention to the grilled cheese sandwich he had ordered.

Jackson had been in Storybrooke for about a week now, and he had yet to regret it. The town was an extremely pleasant place to live; although he hadn't met more than a few of the residents, they all seemed like perfectly nice people.

As Jackson glanced out the window, he noticed the moon hanging in the night sky, gleaming silver.

An idea occurred to him.

The corner of Jackson's mouth twitched in a grin. _You know, I haven't seen the woods around here yet… and I_ am _feeling pretty bored…_

"Anything else I can get you?" Ruby asked, pausing next to his booth.

Jackson turned, surprised; he hadn't noticed her. "Just the check, please," he replied with a smile. "I feel like going out for a run."

A few minutes later, Jackson strolled out of the front door of the diner. He walked around the side of the building, into the parking lot behind it. Looking up at the moon, he let his inner wolf rise to the surface for the first time since he'd come to Storybrooke. His eyes flashed blue, as his fangs and claws extended.

Jackson grinned, and then sprang into motion, moving in a blur. He darted across the parking lot and into the trees, vanishing into the woods within seconds.

* * *

In the woods outside Storybrooke, Emma Swan was examining her crashed car. Scowling, she turned, planting her hands on her hips, and glared into the surrounding trees.

"Well, this is just great," she muttered.

Sidney Glass, her partner in the plan they'd concocted to expose Regina's corruption, was examining the damaged car. "I don't know how that could have happened; the brakes were working before, weren't they?"

"Yeah, they were," Emma replied. She sighed in frustration. "Which means someone cut the brakes."

"So what do you want to do?" Sidney inquired. "I can call a mechanic, if you want."

Emma considered for a long moment, but eventually shook her head.

"No," she decided. "I've had enough of this. We're doing this _now_." She started off down the road, beckoning Sidney to follow her. "Come on; let's go."

Nervously, Sidney followed, trailing after her.

As they were about to enter the woods, Emma was halted by the sound of an echoing howl. It was clearly coming from a long distance away, but it was unmistakable.

She turned to face Sidney, her eyes wide in surprise. "Was that a _wolf?_ "

Sidney shrugged. "Most likely, yes. We do have those here."

"Huh." Emma blinked, looking back out into the woods. The sound had sent a chill down her spine, but she ignored it. _Relax, Emma. You're in the middle of Maine;_ obviously _there are wolves out here._ "All right, then. Let's get moving."

* * *

Jackson hurtled through the darkened woods, running on all fours to increase his speed. His glowing blue eyes illuminated the darkness, enabling him to easily maneuver through the dense forest.

Jumping onto a fallen tree, Jackson howled again, the cry echoing through the forest. Leaping off the tree trunk, he landed lightly on the forest floor. He smiled predatorily and breathed in deeply, taking in the scents of everything around him.

It had been a very long time since Jackson had really been able to let his inner wolf loose. London hadn't exactly been conducive to roaming about at night, and he had been forced to restrain himself as a result. As a result, he intended to make the most of this opportunity. The moon wasn't full, which meant that he was still in full control; he was simply relaxing, letting his wolf guide him, instead of suppressing it.

Just then, a scent caught his attention; a human scent, nearby. Reversing his transformation, Jackson rose to his feet and glanced around, searching for the source of the intriguing aroma.

A few seconds later, another sense detected something; the sound of leaves and pine needles crunching underfoot drew his attention. Jackson's head snapped around, his eyes flickering blue again as he ducked behind a tree to conceal himself.

After about ten seconds, the source of the footsteps came into view; a distinguished-looking man in a dark blue business suit, leaning on a cane to support himself. He had shoulder-length brown hair, which was slicked back, and had a casual air about him.

As the man approached Jackson's hiding place behind the tree, he paused, looking around. For a moment, Jackson was worried that the man knew he was there… but then the guy continued walking onward through the trees, without even glancing towards the tree where Jackson had concealed himself. Just like that, he was gone.

Jackson stepped out from behind the tree, glancing in the direction that the man had gone. Something about that guy seemed oddly familiar, and it had discomforted him.

Shrugging, he turned to leave, starting in the opposite direction.

"Can I be of service to you, young man?" a male, accented voice asked from behind him.

Jackson froze, his eyes wide in shock. There was no way someone should have been able to sneak up behind him. That shouldn't have been _possible!_

He turned slowly, to see, as he'd expected, the guy in the blue business suit. The man's eyes widened when Jackson turned around, as if he was extremely surprised to see him, but he regained his composure almost immediately. "And who might you be?" he asked casually.

Jackson's eyes narrowed. "I'm Jackson," he replied. "Jackson Whittemore. And who exactly are you?"

The man smiled. "Ah, forgive me; we don't get many visitors to this town." He walked forward, leaning on his cane and extending his free hand in greeting. "My name is Mr. Gold. It's a pleasure to meet you… Jackson."

"Uh, thanks." Jackson shook his hand, somewhat hesitantly. The man's hand felt perfectly normal, and his scent was ordinary, but something about him made Jackson uneasy.

"So, what brings you out into the woods at this hour?" Mr. Gold inquired.

"I was just out for a run," Jackson replied guardedly.

"In the middle of the night?" Gold raised an eyebrow. "An interesting choice."

Jackson's eyes narrowed. "Why does it matter to you?"

Gold smiled faintly. "It doesn't; I was just curious." He gazed at Jackson for another moment, as if examining him, with an odd expression on his face. "Well, I should probably be on my way. It's a pleasure to meet you… Jackson." Turning, he strolled off down the path, disappearing into the forest.

Jackson stared after Gold for a long moment.

"What the hell was that about?" he muttered to himself.

Trying to put Gold out of his mind, Jackson shook his head and started walking in the opposite direction. He looked up, his eyes seeking out the silver disc of the moon again.

_Now, then…_

Jackson's eyes flashed blue, and he grinned. A moment later, he started running again, losing himself in the sensation of the cold night air and the scents and sounds of the forest.

* * *

As Mr. Gold limped down the path through the forest, he tried to calm his racing thoughts. But as hard as he thought, he kept coming back to the same conclusion.

_It's impossible!_ he thought to himself. _It can't be him. There's no way he could be here!_

But he kept seeing images of that boy, Jackson. The blue eyes, the confident smirk, the spiked-up blonde hair… he would have recognized him anywhere. If Jackson's hair had been white, they would have been exactly alike.

_Even the name…_ Gold thought, scowling. _But it's not_ possible _! He shouldn't be here!_

For the first time in a very long time, Mr. Gold had no idea how to deal with a situation.

And it wasn't a good feeling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just in case anybody's wondering, this chapter takes place during Season 1, Episode 11 of OUAT, "Fruit of the Poisonous Tree". The scenes in the Enchanted Forest are taking place after the Huntsman helped Snow to escape from the Queen, but before she meets Red Riding Hood. I just wanted to clarify that, because I know it can be confusing given the way time often works in OUAT.
> 
> Next chapter, we find out why Mr. Gold seems to recognize Jackson, more of the young man's story is explained, and Jackson plans a Valentine's Day gift for Ruby.


	5. Snow and Frost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the past, Belle and Rumplestiltskin receive an unplanned visitor in the Dark Castle; in another flashback, Snow and her new friend consider the mystery of his magical powers; and in the present, Jackson joins Ruby for Valentine's Day.

_The Dark Castle, in the Enchanted Forest…_

Belle, a young princess who had given herself over to Rumplestiltskin in order to ensure her kingdom's safety, was hard at work dusting the Dark Castle's library. She whistled cheerfully to herself, cleaning off shelf after shelf.

Belle was interrupted by the sound of the library door closing. Surprised, she hopped down from the stool she'd been standing on and walked down the aisle until she could see the library's door.

"Rumple?" she called. "Did you need me for something?"

As she rounded the corner, Belle frowned in confusion. There was no one standing by the door.

"Rumple?" Belle asked again, walking forward and glancing around. Hearing a sound from behind her, she turned, but again, there was no one there.

"Hello?" she called, beginning to grow nervous.

She heard footsteps from behind her, and turned again, hurrying over and looking down one aisle. Once again, she didn't see anyone; this time, however, something caught her eye. A faint gleam of light, coming from the flat side of one of the bookshelves.

Walking down to the next intersection of aisles between the tall bookshelves, Belle looked more closely at the source of the gleam. Her eyes widened in surprise.

The source of the light was a human handprint, etched onto the bookshelf. As she touched it hesitantly – and then immediately jerked her hand back with a startled gasp – she realized that the reason the handprint was reflective was because it was made of _ice_. The handprint had been frozen onto the bookshelf, and was now slowly thawing, giving off faint wisps of steam.

"Is anyone there?" Belle said uneasily as she turned and started walking down the aisle, towards the exit from the library.

As she emerged from among the bookshelves, into the reading area where several tables were arranged, Belle froze in shock.

Seated at one of the tables, casually leaning back while leafing through a book, was a young man, appearing to be about her age. His hair was spiked up and a shade of blonde so pale that it was almost pure white, and his eyes were a bright, clear blue. That, combined with his prominent cheekbones, full lips and pale skin, combined to make him fairly attractive. He was wearing a light blue shirt under a brown jacket, with loose-fitting, light brown pants.

After a moment, the young man looked up, smiling in a friendly way when he saw Belle. "Ah, hello," he greeted her. "And who might you be?"

Belle stood there for a long moment, staring at him in disbelief. After a long moment, she responded. "I… uh, I'm Belle. Sorry, who exactly are you? And… how did you get in here?"

The young man grinned. "Well, it's nice to meet you, Belle." He glanced around the room, setting the book down on the table. "Would you mind telling me where I can find Rumplestiltskin?"

Still totally confused, Belle hesitated, trying to find the words to answer. "He, ah… he should be around here somewhere…"

As if her words had summoned him, Rumplestiltskin walked into the library, letting the door swing shut behind him. "Belle, dearie, how's the cleaning goi–" He cut off abruptly, his eyes widening in surprise when he realized that someone else was in the library. Once he actually got a look at the young man, though, he groaned audibly. "Oh, not _you_ again!"

The young man chuckled. "Hello, Rumple! Lovely to see you again."

"You know him?" Belle asked in astonishment.

"Unfortunately, yes, I do," Rumplestiltskin replied sourly.

Smirking, the young man rose fluidly to his feet, snatching up an ornately carved wooden staff that had been leaning against the table. "Oh, don't be like that, Rumple! Admit it; you enjoy my visits. Besides, you need a little cheer; the place is terribly depressing without it." He rubbed the tabletop with one index finger, then held it up. "Although it _does_ seem much less dusty." Glancing at Belle, he grinned. "I'm guessing you're responsible for that."

Belle smiled despite herself.

"Oh, all right, fine!" Rumplestiltskin sighed. "What do you want?"

"Now, why would you assume that I'm here because I want something?" the young man asked. "Is it so hard to believe that I just enjoy your company?"

"Frankly," Rumplestiltskin said coolly, "yes."

The young man considered that for a moment, and then shrugged. "Fair enough." His voice lost some of its playful tone, becoming more serious. "There's a creature terrorizing villages not far from here. A demon." His eyes narrowed. "I'm hunting it. And I need your help to find it."

Rumplestiltskin raised an eyebrow. "I'm listening."

"This thing's very difficult to find," the young man explained. "It appears and disappears at random; I've tried everything I could think of, but I can't track it down. I was wondering if you might have a tracking spell that can locate it."

Rumplestiltskin turned, pacing around the room. "Maybe I do and maybe I don't, dearie," he said carelessly. "What's it to you?"

A faint growl rumbled in the young man's throat. "I'm not in a mood to play games, Rumple. I need a tracking spell."

Shrugging, Rumplestiltskin turned to face him. "Well, it's your lucky day, then." He held out his left hand, making a twisting motion with it, and, with a burst of dark purple smoke, a necklace – silver, with a large emerald embedded in an ornate silver setting that resembled a claw – materialized in his palm. "This," he added, "has a tracking spell imbued within it, containing enough power to track any being that uses dark magic. You can use this little beauty–" he held up the necklace "–to track down this demon of yours."

The young man's expression didn't waver. "So what's your price?"

Rumplestiltskin considered that for a moment, tapping the index finger of his right hand against his chin thoughtfully and pacing around the room. "Hmm… well, let's just say you'll owe me a favor." He smiled, twirling dramatically to face the young man. "How does that sound?"

The young man shrugged. "Works for me." He held out a hand. "Now, if you wouldn't mind?"

"Oh, of course." Rumplestiltskin casually walked forward, handing the necklace to the young man. "Just put it on and focus on the being you're searching for, and it'll lock onto its power and lead you straight to it."

Nodding, the young man slipped the necklace into a pocket of his jacket. "Thanks for the help, Rumple," he said, his voice back to its usual, cheerful tone. "It was a pleasure doing business with you." Turning away, he started towards the exit from the library.

"Um, excuse me?" Belle called after him.

The young man turned, curiosity in his eyes. "Yes?" he asked.

"I'm sorry, I just…" Belle smiled faintly. "I never got your name."

The young man's lips curved in a smile. "How rude of me," he replied, walking back to her. With a grin, he took her hand, bowed in a courtly manner, and kissed the back of her hand. "Jack Frost."

Belle chuckled, charmed. "Well, it's a pleasure to meet you, Jack Frost."

Jack rose to his feet again and winked at her. "The pleasure was mine, Belle." He appeared to consider something, then raised a hand. "Before I go…" His hand glowed with blue light, and an object materialized in his palm; a flower, possibly a rose, made entirely out of ice. He handed it to her with a smile. "A gift. Keep it away from fires, and it'll never melt."

Smiling, Belle held up the ice flower. "It's beautiful," she said. "Thank you."

"No problem." With a grin, Jack walked back across the room, nodding to Rumplestiltskin as he went. "Always good to see you, Rumple." As he reached the middle of the open area, he stopped, raised his wooden staff and slammed the end of it down on the stone floor. Blue smoke enveloped him, and then dissipated almost immediately, revealing that he had vanished.

"Wha… how did he do that?" Belle asked incredulously.

"The same way I can, dearie," Rumplestiltskin replied. "Magic."

Gazing at the spot where Jack had vanished, Belle smiled again. "He's quite charming," she admitted.

"He's quite irritating," Rumplestiltskin corrected sardonically. "He enjoys getting under my skin; don't let his playful act fool you, he doesn't like me. But he's a good customer, so I put up with him."

"Well, he seemed nice enough to me."

"They always do, dearie." Rumplestiltskin chuckled. "They always do."

* * *

_Years earlier, in the Enchanted Forest…_

The young man and Snow had been running for at least half an hour before they finally stopped, deep in the woods.

"Okay, this should be far enough," Snow said, taking deep breaths of air. "They didn't see which way we went, so we'll be safe enough for now."

The young man nodded, also gasping for breath. "You're sure?"

"As sure as I can be," she replied.

He shrugged. "Fair enough."

It didn't take long for them to make a fire; Snow kept it small, so as not to attract attention.

"So," Snow said hesitantly as they sat huddled around the fire. She looked up, focusing on him. "How did you do that?"

The young man looked down at his hands. "I don't know. I just…" He sighed. "I saw him about to stab you, and I just… lost it, I guess. I wanted to make sure he couldn't hurt you, and then…" The image of the soldier's face and neck being coated in ice flashed through his mind again, and he felt sick for a moment. He looked up at Snow. "What _was_ that?"

"Magic," Snow answered. "There's nothing else it could have been." She frowned. "I've never seen anything like that before, though. I've met numerous people who can use magic, but most of those people use spells or wands. With you… it seemed to come from within you, as if it came naturally to you."

The young man frowned. "Could it have something to do with why I don't remember anything?"

"Maybe," Snow replied. "But I don't really know. Magic is something I don't understand very well. Few people do." She smiled. "But you saved my life in there. So I promise you, I will help you figure it out."

The young man looked up at her, surprised. "Do you really mean that?" he asked.

"I do," Snow confirmed. "I suppose I owe you now, so it's the least I can do."

"Well, thank you." The young man smiled. "I will be eternally grateful, Snow White."

Snow's eyes widened. "How did you…" She trailed off, chuckling in realization. "Right; that soldier at the inn." She looked at him questioningly. "You really don't know who I am?"

"Well, I'm assuming you did something to warrant having soldiers chasing you."

Snow sighed. "The Queen wants me dead," she admitted softly. "She was responsible for my father's death, and she's been trying to kill me for years, sending soldiers after me. But I've always managed to escape."

The young man grinned. "Well, anyone who's managed to escape from an evil queen and her entire army is a good traveling companion, as far as I'm concerned."

Snow laughed. "And while we're at it," she replied, "I think I have something to call you."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, until we can get your memories back, I need to be able to call you _something_ ," she explained. "And I think I have the perfect nickname." She smiled. "Frost."

The young man raised an eyebrow. "Frost?" For some reason, that name struck a chord with him, as if he'd heard it before.

"It suits you," Snow argued, grinning. "Your hair, your eyes…" She paused. "And your power."

For a long moment, the young man considered. Oddly, something about that name seemed... right, somehow. "All right, then," he agreed. "Frost." He smirked. "It's as good a name as any, I suppose."

"All right, then." Snow smiled. "We should probably get some sleep; we'll need to keep moving in the morning. Those soldiers won't be in any condition to come after us, so we should be safe for the night, but they'll have reinforcements in this area by tomorrow."

Nodding, the young man – Frost – settled in by the fire, gazing up at the stars.

_Snow and Frost_ , he thought. _Seems appropriate._

Frost raised one hand and clenched it into a fist, concentrating. _I wonder if…_ He focused, feeling that icy feeling flow through him again, but this time much less chaotic than before. It felt calmer, more focused.

His clenched hand began to glow, a soft blue light leaking through the gaps between his fingers. After a moment, he opened his hand.

Lying in his palm, glowing faintly, was a single, perfectly formed snowflake.

* * *

_Storybrooke, Maine_

Jackson walked down the sidewalk, exploring Storybrooke's night life. There wasn't too much to do in this town, but he was focused tonight. He glanced down at the object he was carrying, and grinned.

It was Valentine's Day, and he was looking for Ruby. She hadn't been working at Granny's, so he'd inquired about her whereabouts. Granny had informed him that she'd gone out for a "girls' night" with two of her friends, Mary Margaret and Ashley. Jackson didn't recognize either of those names, and he didn't particularly care.

Finally spotting the bar Granny had told him about, Jackson strolled across the street to the entrance. Opening the door, he sauntered inside. He was wearing somewhat fancier attire than normal; blue jeans, a white T-shirt under a light blue dress shirt, and his usual leather jacket over the top.

As he entered the bar, Jackson grinned, spotting Ruby almost immediately. She was seated at a table with two other young women about her age; one had shoulder-length blonde hair, while the other had short dark hair. All three were having drinks. Deciding not to interrupt, Jackson waited for a few moments by the door, concealing the object he was carrying behind his back while slowly making his way towards them. His superhuman hearing could pick up everything they were saying.

"Pace yourself, Ashley," the dark-haired girl said with a chuckle, as the blonde downed another shot glass, immediately reaching for a second one.

"I am!" the blonde – Ashley, Jackson assumed – protested, grinning. "This is the first night out since I've had the baby; I am making up for lost time." She drank the contents of the second shot glass in one swallow.

"Ooh, Ash, check out those guys," Ruby said with a grin, pointing to several well-dressed young men standing at the bar.

Jackson's eyes narrowed. _And that would be my cue._ He started across the room, ducking through the crowd towards the table.

* * *

"Honey, I'm still with Sean," Ashley replied.

" _You're_ not married, and _he's_ not here," Ruby countered.

"He's working!" Ashley argued

"He's _always_ working," Ruby replied. She shrugged, standing up. "Have fun moping."

Before she could walk over to the bar, a hand tapped her on the shoulder. She turned, and took a step back in surprise. "Jackson?"

"Hey, Ruby," Jackson said with a grin. "Good to see you."

"You too." Ruby smiled. "What's, uh… what's up?"

"Granny told me you'd be here," Jackson replied. "I, ah…" He paused. "I wanted to give you something."

"And what would that be?" Ruby inquired.

Jackson smiled. "This." With an elegant sweep of his arm, he produced a bouquet of flowers – red roses, in fact – from behind his back. He grinned, holding them up. "Happy Valentine's Day."

Ashley and the other girl, who he assumed was Mary Margaret, gasped softly.

Ruby stared at him in shock for a moment; then her surprise turned into a delighted smile. "Thank you!" she exclaimed, hugging him tightly.

Jackson grinned, hugging her back. "No problem." Taking a step back, he handed her the flowers.

Ruby smelled the roses, inhaling deeply, and sighed. "Wow," she murmured. "Where did you get these?"

"I bought them at the florist's van yesterday morning," Jackson explained. "I figured you'd like them."

"I love them!" Ruby grinned, delighted, and hugged him again, kissing him on the cheek. Ashley and Mary Margaret laughed, and she pulled away, blushing.

"So, what're you doing tonight?" Jackson asked with a chuckle.

"Well, we were just having some drinks," Ruby replied, indicating herself, Mary Margaret and Ashley. She grinned, a little more shyly than before. "Would you, ah… would you like to join us?"

Jackson smiled. "Absolutely."

* * *

After an hour or so, Jackson had settled in nicely. Ruby had acquired several more drinks from the bar, and he was currently sipping from a glass of champagne (he'd acquired a taste for it from his family's occasional dinner parties back in Beacon Hills).

"Girls' night's not really working out for you, huh?" Ruby asked Ashley, resting a supportive hand on her shoulder.

"I thought it would make me feel better," Ashley admitted. "But, the truth is, I need a 'be with my guy' night." She sighed. "But, you know; he's never around, and I'm at home with the baby all day." She looked up again, glancing between Ruby, Mary Margaret, and Jackson. "I mean, what's the point of being together if we're not together?"

"I get it," Jackson said understandingly. His relationship with Lydia had contained more than its fair share of that sort of thing, and it had only ever caused pain for both of them.

"So do I," Mary Margaret added sadly. "Loving someone you can't be with… it's a terrible, terrible burden." She looked down at the table silently, her face downcast, and stirred her drink with her straw.

"You know," Ashley said, "this was a bad idea. I should… I should go home." She stood up, just as a young man with light brown hair walked up to the table, holding a colorful bouquet of flowers.

"Ashley?" he asked, smiling.

Ashley whirled, her eyes wide in shock. "Sean?" she asked.

"Hey."

Jackson sighed, rolling his eyes. _Just get on with it already!_ he thought.

"I thought you were working tonight," Ashley said curiously.

"I am," Sean explained. "It's my break. And I…" He paused. "I had to see you. And ask you something." He handed her the flowers, and then reached into his pocket, drawing out a small box.

Jackson's eyes widened. _Wait… is he really about to…_

Sean dropped to one knee and held up the box. He opened it, revealing a ring, and smiled. "Will you marry me?"

For a long moment, Ashley didn't respond; she just stared at him, rendered speechless.

Sean's smile became somewhat nervous. "I, ah… I only have a twenty-minute break," he said. "So, um, anytime now."

Ashley finally snapped out of it; she began nodding frantically, smiling as tears welled up in her eyes, and finally gasped, "Yes!"

Cheers and applause filled the bar as Sean placed the ring on Ashley's finger; all of the patrons had taken notice by now. Ruby and Mary Margaret were cheering the loudest; Jackson joined them.

"My truck's outside," Sean said with a smile, "if you want to take a ride before I head back to work. It's not much of a date…"

"It's the best date," Ashley interrupted, smiling.

Sean grinned, offering her his arm. "Then your carriage awaits."

As the happy couple left the bar, Jackson noticed that Mary Margaret looked oddly downcast. She stood up, murmuring a quick goodbye, and hurried out of the room.

Jackson looked after her for a moment. "What was that about?" he muttered.

Ruby frowned. "No idea." After a second, her smile returned, and she turned back to face him. "Anyway, since they're gone… would you like another drink? Toast to Ashley's engagement?"

Jackson mirrored her grin with his own. "I'd love to."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just to clarify about the timeline for this chapter, since someone will probably be wondering; the scene in the Dark Castle takes place during the Enchanted Forest part of "Skin Deep", the scene in the forest takes place immediately after the Enchanted Forest scene last chapter, and the scene in Storybrooke also takes place during "Skin Deep".
> 
> Next chapter, the young man – now known as Frost – and Snow continue their journey, and Jackson encounters Storybrooke's infamous mayor for the first time.


	6. Best Served Cold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In a flashback, Jack Frost teams up with Prince Charming to track down Snow White; in the present, Jackson has his first encounter with Regina.

_"Revenge is a dish best served cold."_ = Old saying from the Mafiosi in Sicily.

* * *

_In the Enchanted Forest…_

Prince James galloped through the forest on his horse, his sides burning with exertion. He gasped for air, breathing hard as the horse galloped along the road. The cries of his pursuers echoed through the forest.

A crossbow bolt shot past his head. They were getting closer.

James glanced back, seeing the soldiers close behind him. There were at least half a dozen of them, all heavily armed. If he couldn't get away, they were going to catch him.

Abruptly, a voice yelled, "Duck!" Bizarrely, the voice had come from in front of him.

James didn't question it; he ducked low in the saddle, just as a bolt of blue light shot over him, hitting one of the soldiers and blasting him backwards off his horse. Another bolt followed, felling a second soldier.

James's eyes widened in amazement, but he didn't pause to question the incident; instead, he spurred his horse on, vaulting over a fallen tree that was blocking the road. Rather than keep running, as the soldiers would have expected, he circled his horse around on a narrow trail, concealing himself within a cluster of trees. Hopping off the horse's back, he looked through a gap between two bushes, watching as the soldiers came to a halt at the fallen tree and circled back, scattering.

He turned around… just in time to see two men in maroon uniforms walking towards him. Before he could react, they whipped a sack over his head, and everything went dark.

* * *

_Storybrooke, Maine_

Jackson woke up early. He grinned, stretching luxuriantly, as he thought back on the previous night. He and Ruby had stayed up talking late into the evening at the diner, and he had really enjoyed learning more about her. Interestingly, despite her confident attitude, Ruby was actually very sheltered; in fact, she had never left Storybrooke. Jackson had regaled her with stories of his childhood in Beacon Hills – although, of course, he had left out the supernatural elements – and his recent journey to London.

Dressing quickly, Jackson hurried to the diner, taking a seat at the bar. He nodded to Granny, flashing a smile as Ruby came out of the kitchen. She returned his smile and strolled up to him, carrying her usual clipboard.

"What can I get you?" she asked with a flirtatious smirk.

"Ham and cheese omelet, with hash browns and an apple juice," Jackson replied, mirroring her smirk with his own.

"Coming right up." Ruby grinned, turning and sauntering back into the kitchen as she wrote down his order.

Jackson sighed, leaning forward and resting his hands on the bar. He was growing quite accustomed to Storybrooke by now; he had spent several nights running through the woods outside the town as a werewolf, getting a feel for the area. To be perfectly honest, he was no longer sure that he wanted to leave; this town seemed to be an excellent place to stay for a while.

"Hi."

Distracted by the high-pitched voice, Jackson turned, glancing down to see the same kid who had been talking to him a few days earlier.

"Oh, hey." He nodded. "Henry, right?"

"Yeah." The kid – Henry – was looking at Jackson oddly, almost as if he was examining him. "And you're Jackson, right?"

Jackson grinned, amused. "Yeah, that's me."

"So… why are you here?" Henry inquired. "In Storybrooke, I mean."

That question threw Jackson off guard; he raised an eyebrow in surprise. "Just passing through, I guess. I'd heard I had some relatives up in this part of the country, so I was driving through the area, and I stumbled across this place."

Henry frowned. "But… that doesn't make sense. No one comes to Storybrooke."

"Well, I did." Jackson was actually intrigued by that last statement, despite himself. "What do you mean, no one comes here?"

Shrugging, Henry clambered up onto the stool next to Jackson. "They don't," he said simply. "The only people who've ever come here from anywhere else are Emma, me, that other guy who's staying at the motel, and you. No one else has ever come here. _Ever._ "

Now, _this_ was interesting. "Why do you think that is?" Jackson asked, leaning on the bar.

Henry appeared to be considering whether he should tell him something, but in the end he nodded, leaning closer to Jackson and lowering his voice. "I know why," he said softly. "It's because of the curse."

Jackson almost burst out laughing, but he managed to contain it. "'The curse'?" he repeated. "What curse?"

"Well," Henry explained, "you probably won't believe me – most people don't – but there's a curse on this town. The people who live here don't belong here." His eyes were alight with enthusiasm. "And, by 'here', I don't mean Storybrooke. I mean this world."

Jackson raised an eyebrow. "This _world?_ Then… where are they from?"

"Another world," Henry replied seriously. "A world where every fairy-tale character is real. Snow White, Prince Charming, Little Red Riding Hood, Cinderella… they're all real. And they live here now, in Storybrooke. The curse brought them all here, to this world, and made them forget who they are."

Jackson had been listening to this story with a combination of skepticism and interest. Normally, he would've dismissed this story immediately, but something about the way Henry described it made him listen more closely. Also, the fact that Jackson was a werewolf had made him considerably more open-minded than most people. But, all the same, what this kid was telling him sounded ridiculous. Fairy-tale characters? Curses? _Magic?_ Seriously?

"All right," Jackson said after a moment of consideration. "Suppose I believe you." He glanced around the room. "That would mean everyone in here is a fairy-tale character, right?"

"Yep," Henry answered promptly, nodding.

"Okay, then. Which ones are they?"

"Hmm…" Henry looked around, his brow furrowing. "Well, I don't actually know for most people; I haven't figured out who they all are yet. I _do_ know that Archie – that guy in the corner over there – is Jiminy Cricket." He pointed to where a guy wearing a tweed jacket and glasses was seated at a corner table, then glanced over and pointed to Ruby as she exited the kitchen. "Ruby's Little Red Riding Hood, and Granny is her grandmother, the Widow Lucas."

"She's Little Red Riding Hood, huh?" Jackson said, smirking. _I suppose that makes me the Big Bad Wolf,_ he thought, amused by the irony of that idea.

"Hey there, Henry," Ruby said with a smile as she approached them, setting down Jackson's breakfast on the counter. "Have you been telling Jackson here stories?"

"He's telling me about the curse," Jackson answered with a grin.

"Ah, got it," Ruby replied, chuckling. "So you told him I'm Little Red Riding Hood, right, Henry?"

"Yep!" Henry said cheerfully.

"Just out of curiosity," Jackson put in, turning back to face Henry, "do you think _I'm_ a character from one of those fairy tales?"

Henry considered that for a moment, gazing contemplatively at Jackson in thought, and then shook his head. "No; if you were, you would have already been living in Storybrooke." His eyes narrowed. "Although, you _do_ look familiar, now that I'm thinking about it… although, unfortunately, I lost my book, so I can't check to see…"

"Henry?" a woman's voice called from the doorway.

Jackson glanced up, just as a woman wearing a dark business suit walked into the diner. She was shorter than he was, with tan skin, shoulder-length black hair and brown eyes. An aura of authority, mixed with menace, seemed to pervade the air around her like a chill.

"Hi, Mom," Henry said with a smile as he turned, waving to her in greeting.

Jackson nodded slowly. So _this_ was Henry's mother, the "Madame Mayor" that Ruby had told him about.

"Where did you run off to?" she said with a smile, walking up to them.

"I just wanted to say hi to Ruby before school," Henry explained.

Jackson and Ruby exchanged grins.

"And who is this?" Henry's mother – Regina, Jackson remembered – asked, noticing someone she didn't recognize sitting behind Henry. As Henry hopped down from his stool, giving her a clear view of Jackson, her eyes widened in shock for a split second, before returning to her previous calm appearance.

Deciding to speak up, Jackson stood to greet her. "I'm Jackson," he said with a smile, extending his hand politely. "Jackson Whittemore."

"Well, it's… nice to meet you, Jackson," Regina said, smiling thinly as she shook his hand, releasing it almost immediately. Although no one else noticed, Jackson heard her heart rate speed up. She was lying; she was definitely _not_ pleased to meet him.

"You must be Regina," he said with an easy smile. "I've heard quite a lot about you." He gave her a quick once-over, her posture confirming what he'd already suspected; this woman was not interested in being friendly.

Regina's eyes narrowed. "How… nice to hear that." She paused for a moment, scrutinizing him. "I'm sorry, Mr.… Whittemore, was it? But I don't recall seeing you around Storybrooke before."

"That would be because I'm not from around here," Jackson responded casually. "I've only been living here for a couple of weeks; I got here right before that big storm hit."

"I see." Regina appeared to consider that for a moment, and then turned to Henry. "Henry, why don't you go wait for the bus, all right?"

Henry nodded. "Sure, Mom." He glanced over his shoulder to Jackson. "It was nice talking to you, Jackson." Smiling, he turned and exited the diner.

As soon as he was gone, Regina's polite smile vanished. Her eyes locked on Jackson with a stern glare, and she folded her arms over her chest. "So, Mr. Whittemore," she added coolly, "would you mind telling me why exactly you were talking to my son?"

Most people would have been intimidated by an attitude like that. Jackson, however, wasn't most people. Something about knowing that he could snap Regina's neck with his bare hands if he wanted to made her a lot less intimidating. Therefore, instead of hastily saying something, he casually replied, "Well, if you must know, he came up to me. He wanted to know how I got here, and then he started telling me all these stories about fairy-tale creatures and that sort of thing." His lips curved in an amused smile. "I was actually intrigued; that kid definitely knows how to tell a story."

Regina considered that for a moment, then nodded fractionally. "I see. In that case, I should probably be going. I would like to know, though; why _are_ you in Storybrooke?"

Jackson shrugged. "Just passing through."

After a second of staring at him, Regina nodded. "Very well." She stood to leave, then paused, looking back at him. "If I may give you a word of advice, Mr. Whittemore?" She glared coldly at him. "You should stay away from my son." Turning on her heel, she strode briskly out of the diner.

Jackson whistled, turning back to face Ruby. "You weren't kidding," he commented. "She _is_ a bitch."

* * *

_In the Enchanted Forest…_

James made his way slowly through the trees, carrying a canteen filled with water. He had just completed a mission on behalf of Princess Abigail; retrieving enchanted water from the legendary Lake Nostos, in order to revive her true love, Frederick. After killing the deadly Siren that inhabited the lake, he had taken some of the water before returning to Abigail.

"Water from Lake Nostos," he said casually, handing her the canteen. "As requested."

Abigail laughed, delighted. "Remarkable!" she exclaimed. "But… how did you manage to slay the beast?"

"Well, the fate of your true love was at stake," James explained, smiling. "And it was a battle I couldn't afford to lose."

Smiling, Abigail turned to the golden statue of Frederick, still clad in full battle armor. Reaching up, she opened the canteen and gingerly poured the water onto the top of his head, watching as it ran down over the statue.

And then it happened. The gold began to change, melting back into normal silver metal. Within a few seconds, the golden statue had been transformed into an armored knight. He remained motionless for a long moment, and then staggered, losing his balance and nearly falling. Abigail hurried forward and caught the man, supporting him. She unfastened his helmet and pulled it off, revealing a young man with tousled dark hair.

"Abigail," he gasped. "What happened to me?"

"You were trapped," Abigail replied, "but now you're free." She smiled, indicating James. "This is James. He's the one who freed you."

Frederick turned to James and shook his hand. "I am forever indebted to you."

"Well, pay me back by walking down the aisle with someone you truly belong with," James said with a smile, glancing from Frederick to Abigail. "And, perhaps, giving me a horse and supplies for a journey as well?"

Frederick nodded without hesitation. "Done."

"Thank you," Abigail added, tears in her eyes. "So much." She looked at Frederick, then back to James. "Where will you go?"

James paused for a moment, and smiled faintly. "To find Snow White."

"You're going after her," Abigail guessed.

James nodded. "True love isn't easy, but it must be fought for. Because, once you find it, it can never be replaced."

After a moment, Abigail frowned, puzzled. "How will you know where to find her?"

"Well, a bird helped me track her down once," James said. "Hopefully, it can again."

Abigail chuckled. "I think we can do a little better than a bird. After what you've done for me, the least I can do is give you a guide."

James raised an eyebrow in surprise. "A guide?"

"Indeed," a voice called out. James turned, to see a young man walking up to them. He wore a brown jacket, a light blue shirt, loose-fitting brown pants and black boots, and he carried an ornate wooden staff. His bright blue eyes, pale skin and spiked-up, pure-white hair combined to lend him an attractive appearance.

"Jack," Abigail said with a smile. "James, this is Jack Frost. He's a friend of mine; I asked him to help me find you and get you to safety, and he performed admirably in that regard."

"Oh, nothing to it," the young man replied, waving his hand carelessly. "I shot a couple of soldiers off their horses; anyone could do that."

James's eyes widened as he remembered the strange bolts of blue light that had knocked two of the soldiers off of their horses. "That was _you?_ "

"Why, yes," the young man answered. He shook James's hand, a friendly smile on his face. "Pleasure to meet you, Prince James."

James nodded. "You as well… Jack Frost." He turned back to Abigail, momentarily confused. "He is my guide?"

"Yes," Abigail responded. "Jack knows these forests better than anyone else. If anyone is going to be able to lead you to Snow White while evading King George, it's him."

"Not to mention," Jack cut in with a smirk, "that I happen to be a personal friend of Snow White. And, as a matter of fact, I happen to know exactly where she's taken up residence, meaning that I can lead you straight to her front door."

Impressed, James smiled. "Then thank you, Jack Frost." He turned back to Abigail and Frederick. "My best wishes to you both."

"I wish you the same," Abigail replied. "And, James, please make haste. When King George discovers that the union of the kingdoms has been ruined, he will come after you." A shadow crossed her face. "Some people will stop at nothing to destroy the happiness of others."

James nodded grimly, his face set. One of Abigail's guards brought his horse forward, and the prince took the reins, climbing swiftly into the saddle. Jack swung easily onto the horse's back behind him.

"Right, then, Prince James," Jack said with a grin. "Let's get you back to your true love!"

A swift kick from James set the horse in motion, racing down the path and into the forest. Jack laughed as they rode off into the night.

* * *

After riding for almost a day, James and Jack finally reached the place where Jack had informed James that Snow was living. A small wooden cabin stood on one side of a field, partially concealed by trees.

As the pair rode up and came to a stop, James hopped off of the horse and walked towards the cabin. "Snow?" he called. "Snow White! Snow! Are you there?"

"She should be here," Jack murmured, walking up behind him. "She was here the last time I visited, and that was only a week ago."

That was when a voice called, "She's gone."

James and Jack turned, taken off guard, as a young woman with long dark hair walked out of the trees. She wore a bright red cloak and hood, and carried a wicker basket in one hand.

Jack's eyes widened in surprise and relief when he saw her. "Red!" he exclaimed, dashing forward.

The young woman smiled, her eyes lighting up in joy, and ran forward to meet him, dropping her basket as Jack tossed aside his staff. They embraced and kissed passionately; Jack lifted her feet off the ground and spun her around in a circle, before setting her down again.

"I missed you," the young woman said with a smile.

"And I you," Jack replied, grinning.

James had been watching this, bemused. "You know each other?" he asked.

"We certainly do," Jack answered, throwing an arm around the girl's shoulders and extending his other hand towards his fallen staff. His palm glowed blue for a moment, and the staff flew off the ground and landed back in his hand. "Red and I have known each other for a very long time."

"What did you say about Snow?" James asked Red, his serious demeanor returning.

Red sighed. "She never came back after she went to find you."

James's eyes narrowed. "Then I'll find her," he decided. "I will always find her. And I will convince her that we belong together." His voice rang with conviction. "I will always fight for her, no matter what comes between us."

Red's lips curled in a smile. "It won't be much of a fight."

"I'll say," Jack added, chuckling.

James frowned. "What are you talking about?"

"Snow wants to be with you more than anything," Red said earnestly.

James's head snapped around, glaring at her. "Don't mock me," he snapped. "Snow told me that we can't be together because she doesn't love me."

"She left here to break up your wedding, because she's _in_ love with you," Red countered.

"She's not wrong," Jack seconded. "You're all Snow ever wants to hear news of; well, you and the Queen, of course, but mostly you."

Red frowned, suspicion entering her eyes. "Unless something changed her mind along the way…"

James's eyes suddenly widened in realization, then in fury. "Not some _thing_ ," he growled. "Some _one_."

A moment later, the sounds of horses neighing and men shouting echoed through the treed, just before a band of soldiers on horseback burst into the open on the other side of the field.

"Jack, James, who are they?" Red asked nervously.

"I'm going to guess that that would be the 'someone' he was talking about," Jack replied coolly.

"King George," James confirmed, glaring at the oncoming horses.

"Bring me his head!" King George ordered from his place on one of the horses, waving his hand to urge his soldiers forward.

"Come on!" James called urgently, beckoning to Jack and Red as he turned and ran towards his horse. The couple ran after him, Jack tugging on Red's hand to speed her up.

Vaulting onto the back of his horse, James looked back, reached down and extended his hand to Red. She nodded in thanks, grasping his hand, and he lifted her into the saddle behind him.

"Jack, let's go!" James ordered.

"Hang on," Jack replied, raising his staff and pointing it at the charging soldiers. "Let me see if I can slow them up a bit." His eyes gleamed mischievously, and he fired a bolt of blue light from the tip of his staff. The bolt struck one of the soldiers squarely in the chest, blasting him backwards off the back of his horse. A second bolt followed, striking down another, ice quickly spreading over the soldier's body as he tumbled to the ground.

"Too many for that," Jack decided abruptly. He paused, then snapped his fingers and smirked in amusement. "Now there's an idea… I haven't used this one in a while." He fired another bolt from his staff, then another, and then another. These three, however, were aimed at the ground a few yards in front of them.

"What was–" James began, but he was halted by a rumbling sound, as three large mounds of ice and snow began to rise from the ground in the places where the three bolts of light had struck the ground.

Then the mounds began to shift and change, forming into three massive shapes. Protrusions of snow formed into massive limbs, two arms and two legs. Sharp, blade-like pieces of ice sprouted from the figures' hands, knees and backs, with the ones on the hands forming into finger-like talons. More pieces of ice grew from the "heads" of the figures, forming dagger-like teeth set into huge mouths. Finally, glowing blue eyes, made entirely from ice, formed on the figures' heads.

Within seconds, the three mounds of snow had been transformed into three massive, golem-like creatures, made entirely of snow and ice. The creatures roared, the sound echoing across the field.

Jack grinned, pointing at the charging soldiers, who were, understandably, stunned by the newly formed giants. " _Stop them!_ " he yelled.

The golems glanced at him, and then turned, roaring in rage, and charged directly towards the soldiers. Within seconds, they were upon the man, smashing them aside with massive, snowy fists, kicking over horses, and letting out deafening bellows. The soldiers were fighting back, but, for the moment, they were too disorganized to mount any kind of counterattack, and their weapons were mostly ineffective against the golems.

"Okay, _now_ we can go," Jack said, jumping effortlessly onto the saddle and landing lightly behind Red.

James didn't bother questioning what had just happened; he spurred the horse into motion, and they galloped away, leaving the raging battle behind them.

"What the hell was that?" James exclaimed in shock as they raced through the trees.

"A trick I learned from an old friend," Jack shouted back. "I'm not as good at it as she was; those things will only last a few hours before the magic I used to create them runs out and they'll evaporate. But they'll buy us the time we need to get away from here, and that's what's important." He frowned. "There'll be more soldiers, though; next time we may not be so fortunate."

"I don't care," James replied, urging the horse to go faster. "I don't care how many enemies I must face; I won't stop until I find Snow."

"Brave heart, Charming," Jack said, chuckling. "I must say, I'm glad to be traveling alongside someone like you. We'll need that courage of yours before this is over."

The horse galloped on, carrying its three passengers into the forest and out of sight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Timeline-wise, all of the scenes in this episode take place during "What Happened to Frederick".
> 
> Next chapter, Frost and Snow continue their journey and Frost begins testing his newfound powers, while Jackson comes up with a plan to surprise Ruby at Storybrooke's annual Miners' Festival.


	7. Dark Dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In a flashback, Frost and Snow have a terrifying encounter with a mysterious creature; in the present, Jackson joins Ruby at the Storybrooke Miner's Day Festival.

_In the Enchanted Forest…_

Frost opened his eyes and sat bolt upright with a gasp, glancing around frantically. For a moment, it had felt as if he was at the bottom of the lake again, feeling the icy water fill his lungs.

"Are you all right?" Snow asked from nearby as she sat up, startled by his abrupt movement.

Frost looked around, breathing rapidly as he tried to calm himself. "Yes… yes, I'm all right. I just… I had a nightmare."

"About what?"

He sighed. "Drowning."

Snow walked over and sat down next to him. "Do you want to talk about it?" she asked gently.

Frost looked up at her. "Actually, yes, I do." His eyes narrowed, and he lowered his head, looking at the glowing embers of the cooking fire they'd made earlier. "When I told you that I fell into a lake, I wasn't telling the whole story."

She frowned. "So what happened, then?"

"I didn't just _fall_ into that lake." Frost looked over at her. "I woke up at the bottom of it." His eyes closed for a moment, and he shuddered, remembering the cold. "I couldn't remember anything; I didn't know who I was, where I was from, whether I had family…" He sighed. "Everything's gone. I don't even know my own name."

Snow had been watching him quietly as he spoke, an expression of mingled pity and compassion on her face. "Hey," she murmured, drawing his attention. "It's going to be all right. We're going to fix this." She smiled. "We'll find out what happened to you, and I will help you get your memories back. I promise."

Frost's lips curved in a smile. "Thank you, Snow. I'm extremely grateful."

"Well, you _did_ save my life," Snow reminded him. "So I owe you one." She grinned.

"I'm certainly glad I–" Frost was cut off by an odd sensation that ran up the back of his neck, as if his hair had stood on end. He shivered, noting a sudden chill in the air, and sat up, glancing around.

"What's wrong?" Snow inquired.

"I don't know, but… something doesn't feel right." He stood up, picking up his staff with one hand, and looked around again. Nothing moved among the trees surrounding their camp.

That was when he heard it; a faint whispering noise, barely audible.

He frowned. "Do you hear that?"

"Hear what?" Snow stood, drawing her knife and gazing warily into the dark forest.

The whispering was slowly growing louder. No words could be determined; it almost sounded more like a snake hissing than a person speaking. Frost tightened his grip on his staff, as another chill ran through him.

Then he heard another sound; the crunch of fallen leaves underfoot.

Snow heard it this time; she whipped around, staring fixedly into the trees. "We should go," she whispered. "Those soldiers–"

"No," Frost hissed, cutting her off. "It's not them."

"Then who is it?"

Another rustling sound, followed by a low, scratchy hiss, echoed through the trees.

"That didn't sound like it came from a _who_ ," Frost stated.

And then there was a flash of movement, and it burst out of the shadows, heading straight for them.

It was unbelievably fast, but Frost caught a glimpse of it as it charged. A powerful, low-slung body, covered in jet-black fur, and running on four legs; two eyes, visible only as glowing orange slits; and a mouth filled with dagger-like teeth. Shadows seemed to bend and ripple around it, blurring its outline and making it difficult to see where its feet touched the ground.

The creature was upon them in an instant; letting out a vicious snarl, it lunged at Frost, fangs bared.

With a cry, Frost swung his staff like a club, catching the creature with a solid _whack_ across the head. It hit the ground next to him and skidded to a halt, whirling around and lunging again. Again, he warded it off with a blow of the staff, but it reared up, slashing at him with long, razor-sharp claws on its front feet.

He recoiled, staggering backwards as the creature spun and lashed out with a long tail that slammed against his legs, sweeping his feet out from under him. He hit the ground flat on his back, gasping for air as he attempted to get up.

Before Frost could regain his feet, the creature leaped at him again and tackled him, yanking him off-balance and landing on top of him. He grabbed its throat with one hand, holding off the claws with his staff as it lunged, snapping at his head and neck.

"Hey!" Snow yelled, raising her knife. "Leave him alone!"

The creature turned, fixing its gaze on her, and hissed again, shifting its weight and preparing to spring.

" _No!_ " Frost roared, heaving upwards and lashing out convulsively, throwing the creature off of him. As it rolled over and whipped around to face him again, he extended one hand towards it, remembering the surge of power that had filled him the previous day, when he had coated that soldier in ice. He fell back into that rage, felt it coursing through his veins. Once again, he felt that sensation like icy water pouring down his back.

Frost's eyes narrowed, and a chill pulsed outward through the air around him. Then he shoved his hand forward, and a blast of glowing blue-white energy shot from his palm, striking the creature. Instantly, a thick coating of frost spread over its dark fur, covering the beast in ice. The creature shrieked, a deafening, inhuman sound, and stumbled backwards, shaking itself like a wet dog in an attempt to remove the ice, but the frost clung stubbornly to its body.

With another shriek, the creature turned and fled, staggering drunkenly. It slammed against a tree, scraping off some of the frost, and broke into a run, disappearing into the trees. One last snarl echoed through the trees, and then it was gone.

Frost scrambled to his feet, looking around wide-eyed. The creature had vanished completely; the forest was dark and silent.

Snow walked slowly over to him. "What the hell was that?" she asked in disbelief.

He looked back over at her, his expression grave. "I don't know." Feeling another chill run down his spine, he looked back around at the trees. "But I think we should get moving. This place isn't safe anymore."

Nodding, Snow began gathering up their possessions. Frost joined her, but not before taking one last look into the trees.

_What_ was _that thing?_ he thought to himself, feeling an ominous tinge of foreboding.

* * *

_Storybrooke, Maine_

Jackson walked down a leaf-strewn sidewalk, listening to the sounds of birds chirping in the nearby trees.

It had been almost two weeks since Valentine's Day, and Jackson was starting to get somewhat bored with Storybrooke. While he'd been able to entertain himself so far, there was actually very little to do in town, so he'd ended up spending most of his free time hiking through the woods surrounding the area. That was enjoyable, but Jackson was losing interest.

Jackson's walk came to a halt in front of Granny's Diner. He ducked through the front door, seating himself in a corner booth just as Ruby exited the kitchen. She grinned upon seeing him, and he smiled back, waving at her.

As he waited for Ruby, Jackson noticed an argument between three men at the bar. One of them stood to leave, just as the front door opened.

Jackson turned, to see that Mary Margaret had just entered the room. She seemed somewhat nervous as she took a step forward, glancing around the room, and finally spoke. "Excuse me," she called. "Can I have everyone's attention, please?"

All eyes turned to Mary Margaret, and the entire diner went silent.

Jackson frowned. _What's going on?_

"I'm sorry to interrupt your morning," she continued, "but I just wanted to remind everyone that a very special occasion is upon us; Miner's Day. As always, the nuns of Storybrooke are hoping that everyone will get involved, and will help sell their exquisite candles. All we need are a few energetic volunteers. So… who wants to join me?"

The silence continued. No one raised a hand to volunteer.

_Okay, something's seriously wrong here,_ Jackson thought.

The man who had just gotten up to leave walked towards the door. Mary Margaret's eyes widened in surprise. "Leroy?" she asked. "You want to volunteer?"

The man – Leroy, Jackson assumed – snorted. "I want to leave, sister," he said coolly. "You're blocking the door."

Mary Margaret nodded slowly. "Of course," she replied softly. "Uh, you know; if you wanted to help, it could really be a–"

"Yeah, right," Leroy shot back. "Quite a team we'd make – town harlot, town drunk. The only person in this town that people like less than me is you. If you're coming to me, you're screwed." With that, he pushed past her and walked out of the diner without another word.

Mary Margaret stood motionless for a moment, stunned. Then she turned, not speaking, and left the room. A blonde woman, who Jackson recognized as Sheriff Emma Swan, hurried after her.

Jackson glanced after her, his eyes wide in puzzlement.

"You okay?" Ruby asked as she set down his food, drawing his attention back to the diner's interior.

He blinked, looking up at her. "Oh, yeah, sorry." He smiled, but it was clear that his attention was elsewhere. After a moment, he looked back over his shoulder, catching a glimpse of Mary Margaret and Emma walking down the sidewalk outside. "What's going on with her?"

"You haven't heard?" Ruby sighed. "Turns out she's been having an affair with a married guy for the past few weeks."

Jackson raised an eyebrow. "Huh. Well, that would explain the reactions."

"Yeah." Ruby shrugged. "I never would have thought she'd do something like that, but she's admitted it herself."

"Yikes." Jackson contemplated that for a moment. "So, out of curiosity… what's Miner's Day?"

Ruby grinned. "Right, you're not from Storybrooke, so you wouldn't know. It's an annual holiday, for an old tradition here in town. The town had some old coal mines a long time ago; the nuns used to make candles and trade them with the miners for coal. Now they use it as a fundraiser." She winked at him. "You should come. It's always an amazing party; everyone loves it."

"Well, that depends." A smirk flickered across his face. "Will I see you there?"

Ruby's eyes gleamed with amusement. "Definitely."

"Then yeah, I'd love to." Jackson chuckled. "Where is this thing, exactly?"

* * *

_Mr. Gold's Pawn Shop_

_Storybrooke, Maine_

Regina stormed into the pawnshop, banging the door against the wall. " _Gold!_ " she snapped.

As if her words had summoned him, Mr. Gold promptly appeared in the doorway to the back room, brushing aside a curtain. "Ah, Madame Mayor," he said in a friendly manner. "What can I do for you?"

"Don't play games with me," Regina snarled. "How the hell did you find him? Did you have a plan set up with him before the curse went into effect?"

Gold frowned. " _Him?_ Whom exactly are you referring to?"

"Oh, cut the crap, Gold." Her eyes blazed. "He wasn't affected by the original curse; I know that, otherwise I would have seen him before now. He didn't come through with the rest of us, and now he shows up out of nowhere, talking to _my son,_ right after the Savior shows up. The only person in this town who could have set this up, other than me, is you. So _what the hell did you do?_ "

Realization suddenly dawned on Gold's face. "Ah, you're talking about the newest resident of our happy little town," he said. "A certain Mr. Jackson Whittemore, or so he told me when I encountered him."

Regina scoffed. "Don't make me laugh. You know exactly who he really is; even if you didn't bring him here, you would've been able to recognize him."

"And indeed I have." Gold casually leaned against the counter. "Jack Frost." It was a statement of fact, not a guess.

"So you _do_ remember him." Regina's eyes narrowed. "And you're seriously still going to tell me that he just showed up here by himself?"

He nodded. "I am." Before she could protest, he held up a hand. "I made no deals with Frost prior to the Curse's enactment. And, in case you weren't aware, he may not have ended up in Storybrooke with us, but he doesn't have the faintest idea who he really is, or who any of us are." He smiled thinly. "He has no more memories of our land than anyone else in this town."

"That still doesn't explain how he got here in the first place."

Gold shrugged. "He's been in this land before, dearie. This one, and others." He smirked. "Jack Frost is – was – a realm-jumper. He could have brought himself from our old land to this one as easily as opening a door; he wouldn't need a curse, portal, or magic bean. The downside is, he cannot transport others with him when he does this; he must always go alone."

"So, that's how he must have gotten here," Regina theorized. "But it still doesn't explain why he can't remember anything."

"Well, considering that, for the most part, magic doesn't exist in this world, it's probably very fortunate for us that he has no memories." Gold considered for a moment. "For now, I would suggest avoiding him; without your powers, you'd be no match for Frost if he remembers who we are and still has his magic."

She looked at him skeptically. "Why would he still have his magic?"

"I've rarely ever seen anything like Frost's power," Gold explained matter-of-factly. "But he has told me that he's always been able to use it, even in lands without magic of their own. So, if he remembers how to use his powers, then trust me… he'll be able to use magic, whether the rest of us can or not."

After a moment, Regina nodded. "Right. In that case, I'll be sure to avoid him." A glint entered her eyes. "At least until I can figure out how to get rid of him."

"That won't be easy," Gold warned. "Even if he doesn't remember who he is, Frost was always a tough one."

"I know." Regina smiled coldly. "But so am I."

* * *

_Miners' Day Festival_

Jackson strolled through the festival, glancing around for any sign of Ruby. He didn't recognize most of the people around him, only a couple of faces here and there. All the same, this festival was impressive.

Finally, he spotted Ruby, leaning against a tree and watching the festivities with disinterest.

A grin flashed across Jackson's face. "Ruby!" he called, waving.

She turned, her face lighting up as soon as she saw him. "Jackson!"

With a chuckle, Jackson ran forward to meet her. When he reached her, acting on an impulse, he wrapped his arms around her waist in a hug, lifted her in the air and spun her around. It seemed oddly natural, although he'd never done that before.

Ruby laughed, hugging him. "Happy to see me?" she asked.

"You have no idea," Jackson admitted honestly. He was actually surprised by how much he'd missed her; then again, Ruby was one of the few people in this town who'd been particularly welcoming to him. She was definitely the only one who he'd become close to.

She actually blushed when she heard that, and then smiled. "Want to grab a drink?"

Jackson shrugged. "Sure."

Just as they headed towards the nearest drinks stand, a thunderous _bang_ echoed across the square; there was an explosion of sparks from the roof of a nearby building, and every light in the square flickered and went out.

Jackson had instinctively placed himself protectively in front of Ruby when the explosion had occurred, but he lowered his arm after a few seconds, glancing around to make sure nothing else was happening.

"Are you okay?" Ruby asked, somewhat nervously.

Jackson turned back to face her. "What? Oh, yeah, I'm fine." He looked around the darkened square again. "What the hell was that?"

She shrugged, looking up at the long strands of lightbulbs on cords that had been stretched over the square. "No idea. The power must've gone out." She snorted. "Perfect time for it to happen, right?"

Looking around, Jackson caught sight of something else; a booth with stacks of large wax candles arranged on the counter. Just a few seconds after he noticed it, two other people hurried over to the booth and took up positions behind the counter.

To Jackson's surprise, the two people operating the candle booth were Mary Margaret and Leroy, the irritable man from the diner.

Jackson's lips curved in a smile.

"Actually, I think it couldn't have happened at a better time," he replied, indicating the booth.

Ruby's eyes widened in realization. "Oh, that's right, the candles!" She started towards the booth, taking his hand and tugging at his arm with a smile. "Come on!"

Jackson chuckled in amusement, following after her.

* * *

Within an hour of the power outage, all of the candles had been purchased; everyone at the festival had descended on the booth. Jackson and Ruby were standing next to the booth, each of them holding a lit candle in one hand.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" Ruby asked softly, looking around at all of the lit candles. "Reminds me of fireflies."

Jackson smiled. "Yeah, it is," he replied.

The sound of laughter drew his attention to the candle booth. Mary Margaret and Leroy were hugging joyously; Leroy even lifted her feet slightly off the floor, which was quite an accomplishment considering that she was significantly taller than him.

Breaking the hug, they both looked across the square. Jackson followed their line of sight with a quick glance, noticing that they appeared to be looking at a group of women in dark blue robes – clearly some of the nuns that he'd heard about.

"Well, go on," Mary Margaret said to Leroy, her voice soft enough that only Leroy and Jackson could hear her. "Give her the news. Have your moment." She smiled, handing him a metal case, and gave him a gentle push, sending him walking off towards the nuns.

Deciding to take advantage of the man's absence, Jackson turned back to Ruby. "Could you excuse me for a second?" he asked.

Ruby nodded with a smile. "Sure," she replied. "Hurry back."

"Your wish is my command." Jackson winked, and strode off towards the booth.

Mary Margaret didn't appear to notice him; she was focused on the scene across the square, where Leroy had now engaged one of the nuns in conversation. Jackson stopped behind her and politely spoke up.

"Uh, excuse me?" he said. "Mary Margaret?"

She turned, frowning in confusion and surprise when she saw him. "Um… I'm sorry, can I help you with something?"

"Well, actually, I just wanted to say thanks." Jackson held up his candle. "You know, for the candles. You two were really a lifesaver there."

Mary Margaret smiled faintly. "I… thank you," she murmured. "You're Jackson, right?"

"Yeah, I am. Nice to officially meet you." Jackson shook her hand with a smile.

"It's nice to meet you too." Mary Margaret looked around with a wistful expression on her face.

"Looking for someone?" Jackson inquired.

"What? No, no, I was just…" Mary Margaret trailed off. "Would you excuse me? I need to make a 'sold out' sign for the booth." She smiled. "This is the first time I can remember that we've needed one."

Jackson grinned. "Well, good luck to you."

"Enjoy the festival." With that, she turned around and ducked behind the booth again, rummaging around in search of some paper.

Left alone again, Jackson made his way back to where he'd left Ruby. "Sorry about that," he apologized. "I was just talking to Mary Margaret."

Ruby nodded understandingly. "How's she doing?"

"She's coping, by the looks of it," Jackson answered, "but it's going to take a while before she can get over that. I've seen things like this happen back home, and it usually takes a while before things go back to normal."

"Most of it's just because this has never happened here before," Ruby stated. "That makes it worse, and to think that someone like Mary Margaret would do something like that…"

Jackson frowned. "Seriously? Something like this has _never_ happened in Storybrooke before?"

Ruby shook her head. "Nope. Not as long as I can remember, anyway, and I've lived here my whole life."

_Seriously?_ Jackson thought. _You'd think that sort of thing would happen at least occasionally; it does everywhere else I've lived. Seriously, does_ anything _ever happen in this town? Even this festival thing has been going on every year for God knows how long. It's like everyone here just does the exact same thing every day!_

He sighed and took another look around the square, just in time to notice the blonde Sheriff, Emma, escorting a tall guy with short, light-brown hair down to where her police car was parked. Mary Margaret was watching them, with an expression of dismay on her face.

"Who's that guy?" Jackson asked, indicating the guy with one hand. The man's face seemed strangely familiar.

Ruby turned in surprise, looking at the guy, and then took a step forward, her eyes wide in surprise. "That's David Nolan," she answered. "He's the guy Mary Margaret was seeing."

As they watched, David climbed into the back seat of the police car. Emma closed the door and walked around to the driver's-side door. She hopped in, started the engine, and the car pulled out onto the road.

"So why's he being arrested?" Jackson wondered.

Ruby shrugged helplessly. "I don't know."

_Well, it's official,_ Jackson thought as he watched the police car drive off. _This town is freaking_ weird _._

He sighed. _Ah, well; at least it can't possibly be as bad as Beacon Hills._

* * *

Across the street from the festival, concealed among the dark trees, a pair of cold, piercing blue eyes watched the ongoing celebration.

The eyes flickered back and forth, looking around the square, taking in everything. But their primary focus was on the tall young man near the center of the plaza, with spiky blonde hair and a confident smirk on his face.

_Yes, that's him,_ the owner of the eyes thought. _I'd recognize a scent like that anywhere. An Omega; alone, in need of a pack._

A faint, amused smirk flickered across the figure's lips. _Perfect._

The eyes narrowed, focusing on the distant form of Jackson Whittemore. And then, for a moment, they lit up, glowing a bright, burning red.

As quickly and silently as they had appeared, the eyes were gone, vanishing back into the forest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Setting some things up for later in this one. :)
> 
> Next chapter, we find out how Jack Frost and Red Riding Hood first met, and Jackson becomes caught up in the investigation into Kathryn Nolan's disappearance.


	8. Wolf at the Door

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In a flashback, Frost and Snow meet Red Riding Hood and her Granny for the first time, and are drawn into the hunt for a monstrous killer wolf. In the present, Jackson and Emma try to help Ruby find a new job, and Jackson is drawn into the investigation of Kathryn Nolan's disappearance.

_In the Enchanted Forest…_

Frost and Snow continued their trek through the forest. It had been several weeks since their encounter with that bizarre creature. They hadn't seen it, or any soldiers, since, but Frost was still worried.

The snow crunched under their boots as they continued walking through the moonlit forest, huddling close together for warmth.

"I thought you said there was a town in this area," Frost hissed.

"There is!" Snow replied in frustration. "I don't understand; we should be there by now!"

Abruptly, a sound echoed through the trees. Frost turned, his eyes wide.

The sound was the howl of a wolf.

"Oh, no," he muttered.

Snow grabbed his arm, fear in her eyes. "We have to move," she whispered. "That sound was coming from somewhere nearby."

"Which means it's close," Frost concluded.

Another howl rang out, this one louder. Frost glanced around warily, hefting his staff. "Should we run?" he asked.

As he spoke, a third howl reached their ears, this one even louder.

"Yes," Snow decided, backing away from the direction of the noise. "Yes, we should run."

With that, they took off, dashing through the forest in an increasingly frantic search for shelter.

As they ran, something caught Frost's attention; a brief glimpse out of the corner of his eye. He skidded to a halt, grabbing Snow's hand. "Wait!" he gasped, looking off to their left. Sure enough, he spotted it again; a faint light, about a hundred yards away.

"That's a house," Snow realized.

"Yes, it is," Frost agreed. "So let's go!"

Immediately, they were at it again, racing through the dark woods. More howls reached their ears, seeming to come from everywhere at once.

Before they could reach the house, Frost realized that it was pointless; all of the doors and windows were boarded up with wooden shutters. Clearly, whoever lived here had taken precautions.

The howls were growing louder by the second; the wolf was getting closer.

Frost and Snow huddled against a tree in an attempt to remain hidden, glancing around frantically in an attempt to see if the creature was anywhere near them.

"What do we do?" Frost whispered into Snow's ear.

Snow didn't reply. She was shivering heavily, and he could hear her teeth chattering.

That was when Frost noticed another building; a smaller one, with no lights emanating from within, a few yards away from the house. "Come on!" he hissed, pushing away from the tree and sprinting towards the shed. Snow followed close behind.

They reached the door within seconds. After a brief struggle, Snow managed to unfasten the latch, and swung it open. They ducked into the building, just as another howl filled the air outside.

The interior of the shed was dark, but much warmer than the forest outside. From the soft sound of clucking and rustling, Frost could tell that they were in a chicken coop.

"We have to hide," he decided, feeling his way along the shelves towards the back of the shed. Snow followed, holding his staff with one hand so they wouldn't lose sight of each other.

Crouching down, Frost felt about on the floor until he found a pile of hay that covered the floor behind one of the stacks.

"Here," he informed Snow. "We can rest here; it'll help us keep warm."

The pair lay down in the hay, pulling some of it over themselves to serve as an improvised blanket, and huddled close together to share warmth.

"I've slept in worse places than this," Snow murmured, the back of her head resting against Frost's chest.

"Agreed." Frost grinned. "I'm pretty sure this is actually the most hospitable shelter I've slept in since I met you, now that I think about it."

"Oh, shut up."

Gazing up at the ceiling, Frost smiled to himself, closed his eyes, and sank into a surprisingly deep sleep.

* * *

_Granny's Diner_

_Storybrooke, Maine_

Jackson was walking quickly down the street, looking around for any sign of Ruby. He'd showed up at the diner at his usual time for dinner, only to be informed by Granny that Ruby had quit her job. His first reaction, obviously, had been to go looking for her. Fortunately, he was much better suited for the job than anyone else was.

He inhaled deeply, searching for Ruby's scent. It wasn't difficult to track her; after spending so much time with her recently, he'd become attuned to her scent.

After walking for a few minutes, he rounded a corner just in time to see Ruby standing at a bus stop about a block away. A man with blonde hair was standing next to her. It seemed as if the guy was trying to start a conversation, but Ruby was leaning away from him, making it obvious that she wasn't interested.

Jackson frowned, walking forward towards them and straining his ears to pick up what they were saying. As he caught the conversation and realized what they were talking about, however, a surge of irritation rushed through him. His eyes narrowed, his hands clenched into fists, and an angered growl rumbled in his throat.

"…Sorry, no, I don't need a ride," Ruby was saying in an irritated tone.

"It's awfully cold out here," the man pointed out.

"I'm fine, really."

"I can carry your bag," he offered. "Where are you headed?"

Before Jackson could reach them – and, most likely, do something he would regret later – another female voice called, "Dr. Whale?"

Ruby and the other man turned in surprise, as Mary Margaret and Emma walked up to them.

"Mary Margaret," the blonde guy – Dr. Whale, apparently – said, surprise and embarrassment mingling in his voice. "Emma. Hello there."

"Hey," Mary Margaret replied in a guarded tone.

"I was just having a talk with Ruby here," Whale explained, the embarrassment in his demeanor increasing. "But I think I should… ah…"

"Yeah," Jackson spoke up with a note of anger in his voice as he stopped behind Whale and Ruby. "Yeah, you should."

Whale turned, staggering back a step in surprise. He'd clearly had no idea that Jackson had been standing there; judging by their reactions, neither had Ruby, Emma, or Mary Margaret.

"Right," Whale agreed. "Well, I'll just… be going, then." He nodded to them and hurried off down the street, straightening his jacket.

"Was he bothering you?" Mary Margaret inquired after a moment.

Ruby chuckled. "The day I can't handle a lech is the day I leave town." Her amusement faded somewhat, and she frowned. "Which this is, I guess."

"You're _leaving?_ " Jackson and Emma spoke up simultaneously.

Ruby shrugged, averting her eyes. "I had a fight with Granny. Quit my job."

"You quit?" Mary Margaret's eyes were wide with sympathy. "Where are you going?"

"I don't know. Away."

"You were just going to leave without telling anyone?" Jackson asked, staring at her in disbelief. "Without telling _me?_ "

"Yeah, I know, I'm sorry," Ruby replied immediately, a saddened look in her eyes. "I just… I had to get out of there, and I couldn't stop to think about anything else."

"Well, you scared the hell out of me!" Jackson protested. "I just spent an _hour_ looking all over town for you to make sure you were okay!"

Ruby's eyes widened. "Really?" she asked softly. "You did that for me?"

"Yeah." Jackson grinned. "When I came in for dinner, Granny told me what happened, so I came looking for you."

Mary Margaret smiled in amusement, watching the two of them.

"Uh, you know, Ruby, buses out of town don't really happen," Emma pointed out. "And you might want a destination first."

"Hey," Mary Margaret said, placing a comforting hand on Ruby's shoulder. "If you need a place to figure things out, you could always come home with us."

Emma seemed to be taken aback by that proposition for a moment, but she shook her head, refocusing on the conversation. "Yeah, uh… yeah, just for a while."

Smiling, Mary Margaret linked one arm through Ruby's. "Come on."

Jackson took Ruby's other arm, and the four of them walked off down the street.

* * *

_In the Enchanted Forest…_

Frost snapped awake. The morning light filtering through the gaps in the wooden wall informed him that the sun was up.

"Snow?" he asked quietly, noticing that she wasn't sleeping beside him.

"Right here," she replied, drawing his attention over to the row of chicken nests beside them. Snow was crouched next to one of them, running her hands gently through the hay.

"What are you doing?"

"Getting us some breakfast," she replied. "There should be some eggs in here somewhere… there we go!" She removed two brown eggs from the nest and held them up proudly.

Frost sighed. "We're stealing food now?"

"Well, there are plenty of eggs in here, and it's either that or go hungry," Snow reasoned.

After contemplating that for a moment, Frost nodded. "Fair enough. All the same, we should probably get out of here before–"

Abruptly, the sounds of footsteps crunching on snow from outside the shed reached their ears.

"Before whoever lives in that house comes out to collect eggs," he finished.

The pair immediately ducked down behind the farthest row of nest boxes from the door, just before someone opened the door and walked in.

Frost exchanged a glance with Snow and gripped his staff, ready to defend himself if necessary.

For a couple of minutes, the person, whoever it was, continued to collect eggs. Eventually, they stopped, and the footsteps began to leave the shed… right up until Snow abruptly sneezed.

Frost almost cursed, but managed to remain silent.

The footsteps immediately stopped, then walked back into the shed, coming slowly towards them. They stopped again, and there was a long silence.

Abruptly, Snow lost her resolve to remain hidden; she stood up hurriedly, mumbling, "I'm sorry, we can go," and started towards the door, but stopped in her tracks after a couple of steps.

"Are you… stealing our eggs?" a girl's voice asked hesitantly.

Frost stood up reluctantly, reasoning that there was no point in hiding any longer.

The girl was standing a few feet away. She was tall, with long, curly black hair, pale skin, and blue eyes, and she was wearing a long red cloak and hood.

"No… not a lot," Snow murmured, still holding the two eggs she'd taken. She held them out to the girl.

"Hey, hey," the girl replied in a gentle, soothing tone. "It's… it's all right."

Snow sighed. "Thank you. It's just that, um, last night…"

"There was something out there," Frost continued. "Some kind of wolf, I think. It was howling, and it sounded like it was getting closer, so we decided to hide in here."

The girl smiled. "Hey, it's okay. I understand. Come on, come with me." She extended a hand in greeting. "Everyone calls me Red."

"I'm Sn–" Snow cut off abruptly. "Frosty."

Frost actually snorted with amusement.

Red raised an eyebrow. "Frosty? Really?"

"No," Snow admitted. "It's just that someone's looking for me, so…"

"You don't know or trust me yet." Red nodded understandingly. "Hey, I get it. I just need something to call you."

"Uh… Margaret." Snow shook her head, looking vaguely disgusted. "No, no… Mary."

"Mary." Red smiled. "That works." She glanced over to Frost. "How about you?"

He grinned, shaking her hand. "I'm Frost. And before you ask, no, that's not my real name, but at the moment I can't actually remember my real name."

"He's lost his memories," Snow explained. "I'm trying to help him get them back."

"Oh!" Red smiled. "I understand." She started towards the door, beckoning for them to follow her. "Well, then, Mary and Frost, come on."

Frost walked out of the shed after her, with Snow following close behind.

* * *

"I just have to bring in some water before we go in," Red informed them as she led the way along a snowy path through the trees. "It'll just take a second."

"What was all that howling?" Snow asked curiously.

Red shrugged. "It's Wolfstime. Killer wolf out there. It's as big as a pony, but a lot more bloodthirsty. It's been stalking the area pretty regularly; it kills cattle and…" She paused as they reached the well, reaching up and grasping the rope connected to the bucket. "Hang on."

Pulling on the rope, she handed the end of it to Snow. "It sticks sometimes. Could you just…"

"Sure," Snow agreed, taking ahold of the rope.

Frost nodded, stepping up and grabbing the rope next to Red. The three of them all began pulling, lifting the heavy bucket out of the well.

"There we go," Frost announced in satisfaction as the bucket appeared at the top. He held the rope firmly as Red leaned forward to grab the bucket, but was surprised when she stopped abruptly, staring fixedly at the bucket.

"Uh… Red? Are you all right?"

"Look," she said, indicating the bucket. "Look at that."

Frost frowned, confused. "What?"

Red glanced back at him. "Look at the water."

Maintaining his grip on the rope, Frost managed to lean forward far enough to get a good look at the contents of the bucket. His eyebrows furrowed in puzzlement.

The water in the bucket was red.

"What the hell?" he breathed.

"Mary?" Red asked, glancing back. "Mary, come look at this!"

Snow didn't answer; she was turned away from them, staring at something on the other side of a large snowdrift.

"What's wrong?" Frost called, but she did not reply.

Releasing her grip on the bucket, Red turned, walking over to where Snow was standing – and then recoiled with a cry of horror.

Dropping the rope and letting the bucket splash back into the well, Frost whirled, hurrying over to them. He skidded to a halt beside Snow, his eyes wide in shock and alarm.

The source of the red water in the well had now been explained. Strewn about the clearing were the bodies of half a dozen men. They had been torn apart; blood was splattered everywhere.

"What did this?" Frost managed, trying not to throw up.

Red stared in mute horror at the corpses for a long moment. "The wolf," she finally whispered.

* * *

Later that afternoon, the entire population of the town had gathered together at the local tavern to discuss the situation. Frost and Snow arrived along with Red and her grandmother, who she'd introduced as Granny. In Frost's opinion, the woman seemed somewhat harsh, but considering what he'd seen since arriving here, she had good reason. Fortunately, she'd been more than willing to offer them food and shelter until the Wolfstime had passed and they could resume their journey. Snow was concealing the lower half of her face with a scarf, in an effort to keep her identity secret.

"The one thing I know," one of the local men was saying loudly as they entered the tavern, "is that last night was the very last massacre!"

Cheers rang through the air.

"You know," the man continued, "if I had stayed with that party for another ten minutes, I too would be among the dead. And when I think, if I'd only doubled back, maybe I could've caught it in the act." He clenched one hand into a fist. "Maybe I would've been able to slay the creature."

"You would not," Granny said flatly, drawing the attention of everyone in the room.

"Widow Lucas," the man acknowledged coolly.

Granny stepped forwards and looked around the room, meeting the eyes of some of the villagers. "This creature is more powerful than you can imagine," she warned. "You wouldn't have a chance. Stay inside, hide your children. Forget your livestock."

"You've said all this before," the man replied.

"But I haven't said _how_ I know," Granny countered. Her eyes narrowed. "Nearly threescore years ago, I was a child with six older brothers. Big as oak trees, all of them, veterans of the Second Ogres' War. And my father, the biggest of them all. Come one Wolfstime, he decided to go out and take on the wolf. A different wolf back then, of course, but just as fearsome. They went out there to protect me."

Her voice became softer, but no less forceful. "I was supposed to be asleep, but I crawled out onto the roof to watch and lay down in the thatch. They had the beast surrounded, the seven of them, with spears all pointed in at it." She paused. "And that's when it started. It was lunging – not at the men, at the _spears_. Grabbing with its teeth, breaking the shafts. They stabbed it with the splintered ends, but it didn't matter. It tore their throats so fast, that not a one of them got a chance to scream, or pray…" Her voice cracked. "Or say goodbye."

Frost felt a chill of fear run up his spine. He exchanged a glance with Snow and Red, who both looked equally frightened.

"When my father died," Granny continued, "I tumbled from the roof, and I landed in the blood in front of the wolf. I felt its breath on my face." She began rolling up the sleeve of her blouse. "And then, it clamped its hot jaw on my arm, and I rolled away."

With that, she pulled up the sleeve, revealing half a dozen huge, parallel scars running around her arm.

Murmurs echoed through the room.

"Then it looked at me with eyes so black, they weren't even there. And then… it walked away." Granny rolled her sleeve back down. "You ever seen a wild animal just turn its back and walk away like you don't matter?" she challenged, looking around again, a blazing intensity in her eyes. "If this wolf is like that one, there is no defeating it. It's already won, just by existing in our world. You can't kill it." She looked back at the man who had spoken up. "You just have to hide."

* * *

"So, your Granny's kind of intense," Snow commented. She, Red and Frost were sitting by the fireplace in Granny's cottage.

"Yeah, a bit," Red agreed. She leaned forward, lowering her voice. "I feel like a rat in a trap."

Snow appeared to be considering something. "Is this trap keeping you from… being with someone?" she speculated.

Red's eyes widened. "How did you know?"

"Well, I saw some looks exchanged back there," Snow replied with a grin, "and I hate to break it to you, but it wasn't subtle."

The other girl laughed. "Yes," she admitted. "Peter. We've been friends forever, but now things are… well, changing."

"That must be nice." Snow smiled wistfully.

"Do you have someone?" Red asked curiously. She glanced back and forth between Snow and Frost. "I mean, are you two…"

Frost and Snow glanced at each other in shock, and then burst out laughing.

"Hardly," Frost replied. "We're friends, but that's it. When I lost my memories, I woke up in a lake, with no idea who I was or where I was from. I found her, and she's been helping me ever since." He smiled at Snow. "I still can't thank you enough for that."

"Well, you have saved my life at least twice by now," Snow replied in amusement, before turning her attention back to Red. "But, no, I don't have anyone like that. I'm not sure that's in my future. You're lucky, Red."

"I know," Red agreed enthusiastically. "And we're talking about going away together." Her delight faded somewhat. "But I don't even get any time with him. Granny's too afraid of the wolf to let me out alone. You saw what the wolf did." She sighed. "Sometimes I wonder if she's right."

"Well, she's definitely right about the wolf, at least," Frost replied.

Snow nodded. "But she's wrong to use it to keep you from love."

Red seemed taken aback. "You think that's what she's doing?"

Frost nodded. "Seems like it."

Red sat quietly for a few seconds, contemplating something. After a while, a faint smile flickered across her face, and she turned back to face them.

Her words, when they came, were not what Frost had been expecting.

"Let's kill the wolf."

Frost stared at her, dumbfounded. " _What?_ "

"Hang on…" Snow replied simultaneously, her eyes wide in alarm.

"We'd be heroes," Red pressed.

"Red, _teams_ of trained hunters have been killed!" Snow protested.

"But they go at night, when it's got the advantage," Red reasoned. "If we went now, we could find it slumbering in its den and kill it in its sleep." She stood, securing her cloak and heading for the door. "Come on!"

"Red, I don't know…" Snow was clearly still uncertain.

Red's eyes narrowed. "Well, I'm going – with or without you. You're right; I can't let her keep me trapped forever."

The three of them stood motionless for a long moment. Finally, Snow nodded. "All right, fine, but we're coming with you."

"I'm in too," Frost added. "Someone needs to keep you two out of trouble."

A few minutes later, armed with their chosen weapons – Frost's staff, Snow's bow and arrows, and two hunting knives for Red – the unlikely trio of hunters headed off into the forest.

"I like her style," Frost muttered to Snow as they followed Red out of the house.

"You would," Snow replied with a grin.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Snow laughed.

* * *

_Storybrooke, Maine_

Jackson found himself sitting in a chair at the police station. Fortunately, he was only there because he'd chosen to go there – Emma and her son Henry were trying to help Ruby find a new job, so Jackson had chosen to tag along.

"Want to be a bike messenger?" Henry offered, clicking through several websites.

Ruby frowned. "Bike messenger?"

"Basically taking things to people in a little basket."

"Nope." Ruby grinned. "Yeah, see, I'm not so great at bike riding."

"How about taking things on foot to people in a little basket?"

"I'm not sure that's a real job."

Jackson chuckled under his breath.

As Henry continued his search, the phone on Emma's desk rang again. The ringing was abruptly cut off, and a light lit up on the phone.

"Why do the phones keep doing that?" Ruby inquired.

"Oh, the non-emergency calls go to a machine when Emma's busy," Henry explained.

The phone rang again; this time, however, Ruby snatched it off the receiver. "Sheriff's station, how can I help you?" she asked in a pleasant tone. "Uh-huh. I'll get her to return. Thank you, you too." Hanging up, she answered the next one. "Sheriff's station. Hey, Miss Ginger."

As she continued talking, Emma entered the office. She glanced at Ruby on the phone and then looked over to Jackson questioningly.

Jackson shrugged, not bothering to respond.

"Uh, no, that's not a prowler," Ruby said, drawing his attention back to the ongoing phone conversation. "That's Archie's dog, Pongo. Throw him a vanilla wafer, he'll quiet down. Uh… did you still want to talk to Emma?" She paused, surprised. "Great. Glad I could help." With a smile, she hung up, placing the phone back on the receiver.

"How's it going, you three?" Emma asked with a grin.

"Great," Ruby replied. "Except I can't do _anything_."

"Well, I'm sure that's not true. I just saw you on the phone; that was good."

"That?" Ruby chuckled. "That's nothing."

"No, no, it isn't," Emma insisted. "I actually have some money in the budget, if you want to help out around here."

Ruby stared at her in shock for a moment, before her expression melted into a delighted smile. "Yes, thank you! Um, I could answer phones and help out. Is there anything else that you need done? Organizing files, cleaning up? Please, I want to be useful."

Emma sighed. "Well, I'm swamped with the Kathryn Nolan thing. If you maybe want to grab us lunch, I would never say no to a grilled cheese."

"Done," Ruby said promptly. She glanced over to Henry and Jackson. "You guys want anything?"

"Uh, two chocolate chip cookies, an apple pie, and a hot dog," Henry listed.

"He ate at school," Emma cut him off with an amused grin.

"Grilled cheese works for me too, if you don't mind," Jackson spoke up.

Ruby grinned. "Right, then. I'll be back in a few."

As Ruby turned to leave, Mary Margaret entered the room. She seemed oddly nervous.

"Hey!" Ruby greeted her. "Lunch, Mary Margaret? I'm getting for everyone."

"Uh, no, thanks," Mary Margaret replied. "I'm not hungry."

Shrugging, Ruby exited, heading out towards the parking lot where she'd left her car.

Once she was gone, Mary Margaret walked over to Emma. "David's in the woods," she said, her voice becoming nervous. "There's something wrong with him. He looked right through me. It's like…" She paused. "It's like he was a different person."

Jackson frowned. _What the hell is she talking about?_

* * *

_In the Enchanted Forest…_

Frost, Snow and Red walked through the forest, searching for any sign of the wolf's tracks.

After a few minutes, Snow pointed to a set of tracks in the snow. "What about that?" she asked.

Red glanced down and smiled in amusement. "That's a dog." She crouched down, examining the tracks. "See how small that is? Don't look where the snow's drifted – it covers tracks."

"You're good at this," Frost observed.

"I've been doing this sort of thing for a long time," Red replied.

They carried on, spreading out in an attempt to cover as much ground as possible.

A few seconds later, Snow called again. "Hey, over here."

Walking over to investigate, Red laughed. "That… is a rabbit." She looked back and forth between the two of them, her gaze earnest. "What we're looking for will be _huge_. Like a dog print, but much bigger."

Frost frowned. "How big are we talking about?"

"Like… eight inches across, with big, long claws."

Snow had walked a few paces away, and was staring at the ground fixedly. "Like these?" she asked softly, her voice wavering.

Frost and Red hurried over to join her, freezing in place as they looked down at the ground. Clearly visible, pressed deep into the snow, were a set of massive paw prints.

Frost dropped to one knee, placing his hand over one of the prints with his fingers splayed out. The print was as wide as his entire hand.

"Yes," Red said softly. She looked around, searching the area, until her eyes fell on something else. She pointed. "And those."

Frost looked up, to see another set of tracks about twenty feet away.

"Oh, my gods," Red whispered. "How big is this thing?"

"This was one stride? From here…" Snow indicated the other tracks. "To there?"

"Come on," Red urged, hurrying in the direction that the tracks followed and pointing to another set farther along. "Over there. Through the brush, and off towards the hill."

"You're good at this," Frost commented.

Red smiled. "When there's something I want, I'm good at tracking it down."

* * *

"Here's another one," Snow said, pointing to another print.

They'd been tracking the wolf through the forest for the past hour, and Frost's legs were starting to hurt. Using his staff to keep his balance in the snow, he was constantly glancing about to make sure that the creature couldn't ambush them.

"Right," Red agreed. "And then here's…" Her words trailed off, and she came to a stop, looking down.

"What?" Snow asked.

Frost turned and looked down, to see that Red was staring fixedly at one of the tracks. Something about the print she was looking at seemed different. Once he looked at it closely, it was obvious.

Instead of a typical paw print, the heel of the foot was now much narrower and rounded. The marks of the claws were still there at the front, but the rest of the print no longer looked like a paw. If anything, it looked more like…

"This print… it looks like it's half-wolf and half- _boot_." Red looked up at them. "See?"

"Wolves don't wear boots," Snow said slowly.

"No." Red shook her head. "No, they don't."

"And then it just continues…" Snow paused, looking ahead.

Frost turned, to see that, after a few steps, all traces of the paws had vanished, and the prints now looked like the tracks of human feet, continuing on the same path.

"It's like it was a man," Frost realized.

"Like it was a man… and a wolf." Red's voice quivered.

Snow's eyes widened in horror. "Red, what kind of monster is this?"

* * *

"So…" Red began as they continued hiking through the forests, following the now-human footprints.

"Yeah?" Snow asked.

"Wolfstime is once a month, on the full moon." Red considered for a moment. "There's a story I heard once, about a creature–"

"Hey, I don't mean to interrupt, but…" Frost looked around. "Aren't we awfully close to your house?"

Looking through the trees, they saw that he was right. The tracks led straight towards Red's cottage, which was barely visible through the trees.

Hurrying forward, they emerged into the clearing around the cottage, to see that the tracks ended outside one of the windows.

"That's my bedroom window," Red whispered.

For a long moment, they all remained standing motionless, gazing at the cottage.

"Who's gone to your window, Red?" Snow asked, breaking the silence.

Red was still staring, horrified, at the cottage. She shivered, and a tear ran down her cheek.

After a moment, Frost's eyes widened in realization. So did Snow's.

"Is it Peter?" Snow murmured. "Red, has he been at your window?"

After a few seconds, Red nodded slowly. "Last night," she whispered, her voice cracking. "Before the killings. And… and he never joined the guys to hunt the wolf."

"But I'm sure he wouldn't have _killed_ them," Snow protested.

Red shook her head. "He wouldn't," she replied. "But when the wolf takes over…" She trailed off, her meaning clear.

"Didn't they say that they were sending out another hunting party tonight?" Frost inquired, feeling an ominous sense of foreboding.

"They're going to kill him," Red realized. "Or… he's going to kill them."

"It doesn't have to be that way," Snow said with determination.

Red turned to face her. "What can we do?"

"Tell him." Snow's expression and voice were firm. "If he doesn't know, tell him. Stop him. If he'll listen to anyone, if he'll believe anyone, it's you."

Red blinked. "You think I can save him?"

Frost grinned. "Yeah."

"I think you can save everyone," Snow added.

Red looked around. "It's going to be dark soon," she worried. "Granny will be out of her mind with worry if we're not home. She'll go out there." She shivered. "This is so bad."

Frost placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, focusing her attention on him. "Then let's do something about it," he said.

After a moment, she nodded. "You're right." She glanced over to Snow, then back to Frost. "You're both right." Her eyes narrowed in conviction. "I have to."

* * *

_Storybrooke, Maine_

Jackson chuckled, leaning back in his chair, as Henry placed the large book he'd been reading on Emma's desk and began looking through the drawers. "What're you up to?" he asked.

"Finding a safe place to hide this," Henry explained. "I lost it a while ago, but Emma found it again a couple of days ago. So I decided to make sure it's in a safe place from now on, where no one can steal it."

Jackson snorted in amusement. "Must be a pretty important book."

"You have no idea." Henry grinned. "This is the book I mentioned when we talked a couple of days ago at the diner. It tells the stories of everyone in town, what their lives were really like before the curse brought them all here and made them all forget who they were."

"Interesting." Jackson considered. "Mind if I take a look at it sometime?"

Henry nodded. "Sure." He opened one of the desk drawers and, upon finding that it was empty, grinned. "Perfect."

"Okay, kid," Emma called as she exited the office. "Don't mean to kick you out, but I have to go see if David's in some kind of trouble out there."

"It's okay," Henry replied. "I'm supposed to meet my mom." He placed his book into the drawer, closed it securely, and then locked it with a key he'd found on the desk. Placing the key into a mug filled with pens, he turned back to Emma.

She grinned. "Nice."

"You know," Henry said as he picked up his backpack, "you can let Ruby do more. She's Little Red Riding Hood."

"With the little basket?" Emma raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, she seems like a badass."

"She is," Henry insisted. "She just doesn't remember how cool she is, or what she's capable of. But it's true."

As Henry headed for the door, Ruby entered, carrying a brown paper bag under her arm.

"Hey, Ruby," Henry greeted her as he passed her and left the room.

"Hey, Henry," Ruby replied with a grin. She set down the bag on the desk. "Got your grilled cheese." Now that Jackson was actually focused on her, he noticed that she seemed downcast.

"Thank you," Emma said with a smile, picking up the bag.

"Are you okay?" Jackson asked, standing up and walking over to Ruby.

Ruby looked over at him and smiled faintly. "I guess. I mean, this is something I know how to do." She indicated the bag. "So, yay."

Emma sighed. "Okay, let's pack these back up…" She closed the bag and picked it up. "…and we can eat in the car. I need to do a little wilderness search, and I need your help."

"I'm pretty sure I'm just going to screw it up," Ruby replied. "I mean, I'll screw it up with flair, but…" She lowered her head.

"No, you won't," Emma insisted. "Come on, you can do this." She glanced at Jackson. "You can come too; you might as well make yourself useful."

Jackson shrugged. "Sure, why not?"

After a moment, Ruby nodded and followed her out of the room. Jackson was close behind.

* * *

"This place is massive," Ruby complained, looking around at the forest. "How are we supposed to find one guy?"

"Hey, shhh," Emma interrupted. "We might be able to hear him."

Ruby frowned. "It's _massive._ "

"Yeah, but it's a lot easier to hear stuff out here than it would be in town," Jackson pointed out, remembering the lessons on tracking people that he'd gotten from Derek before leaving Beacon Hills. "If he's anywhere near here, we should be able to hear him if he's yelling, talking, or anything like that."

"And we're following the path because there are boot prints," Emma explained, "so just stay close."

"I shouldn't even be here," Ruby muttered. "I'm just going to screw everything up…" Abruptly, she stopped dead in her tracks. Jackson almost bumped into her.

Emma frowned. "Ruby?" she asked.

Ruby didn't reply; she was looking around the area, her eyes wide.

"I hear him," she announced after a few seconds.

Jackson's eyes widened. _He_ couldn't even hear anything, and his hearing was a lot better than a normal human's. How could Ruby hear something he couldn't?

Emma had a similar reaction. "Really?"

"Yeah, really," Ruby answered. "I hear him or… something. I…" Her eyes narrowed. "I know where he is," she said in realization. "Don't you?"

"Uh, no, but…" Before Jackson could finish speaking, Ruby had taken off at a jog through the trees. He hurried after her.

"What are you doing?" Emma called to Ruby as she rushed through the trees.

"He's over here!" was Ruby's only reply.

Jackson inhaled a deep breath of air as he started running after her. That was when an oddly familiar scent, definitely human, reached his nose.

_There_ is _someone over here_ , he realized.

After about thirty seconds, Jackson skidded to a halt. The scent was stronger here, and he followed it around a large tree, to where Ruby was standing motionless, looking at something on the ground with a shocked expression on her face.

"What's wrong?" Jackson asked, hurrying over to her. He stopped at the sight of a man, who he recognized as David Nolan, lying motionless on the ground. David appeared to be unconscious.

"Emma!" Jackson yelled. "Get over here!"

"Jackson?" Emma called back as she rounded the same tree. "Ruby? What–" Upon seeing David, she froze in shock. "David? Oh, god." She immediately rushed over to him and crouched down, taking him by the shoulders and trying to shake him awake. "Come on! David, come on! Wake up! David, _wake up!_ "

Finally, David's eyelids flickered. With a gasp, he opened his eyes and looked around, breathing heavily. "Emma?" he breathed. "What…" He glanced over, his eyes falling on Ruby and Jackson. "Ruby?"

Emma looked closely at him, touching a visible cut on the side of his head. "Do you remember where you are?" she asked.

David shook his head. "No, I…" He sat up, looking around in astonishment. "What the hell?" he whispered. "I was… I was in your office." He looked back to Emma. "Did you bring me here?"

Emma's eyes were wide in surprise. "You don't remember anything since you were in my office? _Last night?_ "

David stared at her wide-eyed for a moment, and then shook his head. "No, I don't."

Jackson had focused on the man's heartbeat, in an attempt to tell if he was lying. To his surprise, David's heartbeat was steady. He was telling the truth.

As Emma helped David to his feet, Jackson couldn't help thinking about what had happened. He was a _werewolf_ with superhuman senses, so how the hell had Ruby been able to find David before he had?

And then, oddly, Jackson caught another scent. There was only a trace of it, drifting on the breeze. But he recognized it within seconds; it was the same strange scent that he'd picked up in Granny's Diner at one point. The scent that was similar to a werewolf, but not a werewolf.

Jackson's eyes narrowed, flickering blue for a moment. He turned away, looking around through the trees, but no one was there.

_Okay, seriously_ , he thought, _what the_ hell _is going on around here?_

* * *

Later that evening, Jackson was back in his room at the inn, when his cell phone abruptly rang. He answered it promptly. "Hello?"

_"Hey, Jackson, it's Ruby."_

He smiled. "Oh, hey! What's up?"

_"Well, I'm at the station, and Emma just called. She wants me to go out to the old toll bridge and see if David was there earlier."_ Ruby paused. _"And, well… to be perfectly honest, I was wondering if you'd be up for going out there with me. I'd rather not go all the way out there by myself, since it's going to be dark soon."_

"Right." Jackson nodded thoughtfully. "Sure, I'll go. I'm at the inn; can you pick me up?"

_"Okay, sounds good. I'll be there in five minutes. See you then."_ With that, Ruby hung up the phone.

Jackson smiled. _Not what I was expecting for a date,_ he mused, _but I'll take what I can get._

Ruby was waiting at the curb when he walked out of the inn's front door. To his surprise, she was driving Emma's yellow Volkswagen Bug.

"She let you borrow her car?" Jackson inquired.

"Yep," she replied with a mischievous grin. "Now get in the car, and let's go."

"Gladly." Jackson winked, opening the passenger door and climbing inside.

* * *

"Creepy," Jackson muttered, hopping out of the car. It had taken them about twenty minutes to drive out to the old toll bridge that Ruby had mentioned.

Ruby climbed out of the other side, holding her phone up to her ear as she called Emma back. "Hey, Emma, I'm at the toll bridge. So, what do you want me to do? I mean, what am I even looking for?"

_"Anything out of the ordinary,"_ Emma's voice echoed over the phone. _"Something that doesn't belong there."_

Ruby looked around, closing her eyes for a moment. When she opened them, there was a new focus in them. She started walking down towards where the river flowed under the bridge; Jackson followed, glancing around warily.

"And… if I find something?" she said into the phone.

_"Just follow your instincts,"_ Emma instructed.

Ruby walked along the edge of the water, leaving footprints in the damp sand. Jackson followed right behind her, all of his senses on full alert.

Abruptly, a faint scent reached his nose. Jackson looked up, following the scent, and his gaze fell on what what looked like a wooden board near the water. He glanced over at Ruby, to find that she was looking at it too.

Jackson indicated the board with one hand. Ruby nodded and started walking over to it. Bending down next to the board, she flipped it over, revealing a perfectly ordinary patch of wet sand underneath it.

Jackson's senses, however, were still on alert, indicating the spot where the board had been. Although he couldn't explain how Ruby knew about it, his sense of smell didn't lie; there was _something_ down there.

Picking up a stick, Ruby poked it into the sand tentatively. Shrugging, she put her cell phone on speaker and handed it to Jackson. Crouching down on one knee, she began digging with the stick, scooping away sand.

At first, there was nothing but sand. After a few seconds, however, the tip of the stick hit something with a dull _clunk_.

Ruby looked up at Jackson with a startled expression on her face. Reaching down, she brushed away the sand, revealing a small wooden box, only about a foot across.

"You… can't give me a clue what I'm looking for?" she asked.

_"Anything of Kathryn's,"_ Emma replied.

Ruby gingerly picked up the box, turning it over in her hands.

"Looks like some kind of jewelry box," Jackson murmured.

Ruby nodded. "Yeah, but… who would bury a jewelry box out here?"

_"Ruby?"_ Emma spoke up again. _"What's going on? Did you find something?"_

"You could say that, yeah," Jackson answered, raising the phone to his ear.

_"Jackson?"_ Emma asked in surprise. _"Why are you on Ruby's phone?"_

"She asked me to hold it; she was… digging. Anyway, that's not the point. The point is, we found something."

_"Okay… so what is it?"_

"Some kind of jewelry box," Jackson explained. "We haven't…" He trailed off as he looked over at Ruby, just as she carefully opened the box.

And then immediately dropped it, recoiling with a horrified scream.

_"What was that?"_ Emma demanded. _"Ruby? Ruby?!"_

Jackson didn't bother replying; instead, he rushed over to Ruby's side, setting down the phone on a rock. Holding Ruby carefully around the shoulders with one arm, he picked up the box with his free hand and cautiously looked into it.

When he saw what was inside, his face turned white, and he felt nauseous for a moment. But he'd seen worse than this before, so he was able to overcome his instinctive horror.

He inhaled deeply, activating his enhanced sense of smell. To his surprise, the smell of blood emanating from the box's interior was much fainter than he'd expected.

_"Guys, what the hell is going on?!"_ Emma's voice shouted over the phone.

Jackson gently released Ruby, who was shivering uncontrollably, and picked up her phone again. "We're okay," he said, barely holding in a shiver of his own. "But we may have a serious problem."

* * *

Distracted by what they had found, Jackson and Ruby never saw the pair of glowing red eyes that were watching them from the opposite side of the creek, concealed among the trees.

As the pair walked back up towards the car they'd arrived here in, Jackson carrying the jewelry box in one hand as he spoke to Emma on the phone, the red eyes vanished silently back into the dark forest.

* * *

_In the Enchanted Forest…_

Frost sat on a comfortable armchair in front of the fireplace in Red's bedroom, enjoying the warmth given off by the coals. His eyes were half-closed, and his breathing was slow and even.

Snow was lying in Red's bed, covered by the red cloak and hood. Their plan had been simple: Snow and Frost would remain behind in the cottage so that Granny would think Red was still asleep in her room, while Red would chain up Peter in the woods to keep him from hurting anyone when he transformed into the wolf. Frost had wanted to go with Red, but she had insisted that, while Snow could cover for her, there was no way Granny wouldn't notice that he had left.

Suddenly, the bedroom door opened, and Granny entered. She noticed Frost sitting by the fire, but he had already closed his eyes and appeared to be asleep.

"Where's Mary?" Granny asked, looking around for any signs of Snow. Of course, none presented themselves.

Frost cursed inwardly, but managed to continue feigning sleep.

"Come on, girl, wake up," Granny said, grasping Snow by one shoulder and shaking her gently. "We best bar the door. If Mary's not back by now, she'll have to take her chances."

And then she pulled on Snow's shoulder, rolling her over and revealing her face. Even in the darkened room, it was obvious that she wasn't Red.

"She's in no danger," Snow said quickly, before Granny could get any words out.

"What have you done?" she gasped in shock.

"No, it's okay," Snow insisted earnestly. "It's all right. It's fine."

"Where is she?" Granny snapped.

"She's…" Snow sighed. "Well, she's with Peter." As Granny's eyes widened, she continued, "And I know that you don't like him, but that's… really beside the point."

"You stupid, careless, ridiculous _girl!_ " Granny exclaimed.

"No, you don't understand!" Snow protested. "Peter isn't…" She paused. "This is going to be difficult to accept; you just have to trust me."

Granny remained silent for a moment, staring at her questioningly.

Snow stared directly at her, her gaze intensely focused. "He's the wolf."

The older woman's eyes widened in astonishment. "You think Peter is the wolf?" she whispered.

"Yes," Frost spoke up, walking to Snow's side. "We went out yesterday, tracking the wolf, and we saw that its prints turned from paws into human feet. And those prints led straight to her bedroom window." He sighed. "And I'm sure you don't know this, but Peter's been coming by her bedroom window to see her."

"This terrible creature is also human," Snow finished. She smiled faintly. "It's okay, though. He won't hurt her; she's got him tied up."

Granny's head snapped around, staring at her in undisguised horror. "He's tied up?" she asked.

Snow nodded.

"Oh, that poor boy!" Granny whirled and rushed back into the other room, shouting, "Follow me, _now!_ If we run, we might be able to save him!"

As Snow and Frost raced after her, the pieces finally fell into place in Frost's mind.

It all made sense. Red's unusual ability to track down anything she wanted, and how at home she had seemed in the forest. The wolf's paw prints turning into human footprints. And the fact that they led straight to her bedroom window.

"Frost, what is she talking about?" Snow asked as they burst out of the cabin after Granny.

"It's not him," Frost replied, his mind whirling in realization. "Peter isn't the wolf." He looked down at Snow. "It's Red. _She's_ the wolf. She just doesn't know it."

Snow froze in place, her eyes wide in shock and horror. "And Peter's out there, tied up, and alone with her," she gasped.

Frost nodded grimly. "Yes, he is," he agreed. "Which is why we need to _run._ "

* * *

"You knew she was the wolf the whole time?" Frost asked, as the three of them hurried through the darkened forest. Snow was still wearing Red's cloak.

"Of course I did," Granny shot back. "Her mother was one, too, before a hunting party killed her. I thought maybe Red didn't get it, but when she was thirteen, it started. I paid a wizard for that cloak – it keeps her from turning." She scowled. "But she doesn't wear it, and she's found some way out of the house."

"Why didn't you tell her?" Snow inquired.

"I didn't want her to have that burden," Granny explained. Her voice quivered. "It's a terrible burden."

"So, that story you told…" Frost reasoned.

Granny nodded. "That was her grandfather. He marked me that night. Then he came back, found me… turned me."

"Turned you?" Snow repeated in surprise. "You're…" She paused, realizing what that meant. "Granny? How are you tracking her?"

"By smell," Granny answered. "I still have that, even though the rest of it has faded away." She sighed. "Gods, I was a fool to think I could keep this from her. I am a fool, and I have cost so many lives."

"But you didn't mean to," Snow argued. "That's the main thing."

"Is it?" Without waiting for a response, Granny handed her lantern to Frost and removed a crossbow from where it had been strapped to her back. "A silver-tipped arrow _will_ drop her."

Snow shivered.

"Shh!" Granny whispered. "Follow me. We're approaching from downwind, so we have a chance."

Slowly and carefully, they made their way down an incline, towards the light of a small fire that gleamed through the trees.

And then they saw it. The wolf.

It was massive, easily the size of a small horse. It was crouched near the fire, tearing at something on the ground, and didn't seem to have any idea that they were there.

As the group edged forward, Frost raised his staff defensively, ready to blast the creature with ice if it became necessary. Granny raised her crossbow, training the silver-tipped arrow squarely on the wolf…

And then Snow accidentally stepped on a branch, breaking it with a _crack_.

Instantly, the wolf turned, its glowing yellow eyes locking on its new targets. A vicious snarl cut through the air, and it leaped at them.

Granny didn't bother trying to run: she simply tilted the crossbow slightly upwards and pulled the trigger. The arrow thudded into the wolf's side. Letting out a yelp, the creature went limp in midair and hit the ground at their feet.

"Cloak!" Granny ordered.

Snow pulled off the cloak, and with one quick motion, she and Frost swept it over the fallen wolf, covering the creature. There was a brief flash of red light, and a gust of wind.

"It's too late," Snow whispered, looking over at the torn, bloody corpse lying in the snow a few feet away. "He's gone."

Frost felt his stomach turn, but a soft groan drew his attention away from the grisly sight and back to the cloaked figure on the ground. Slowly, a human hand reached out from under the cloak, pulling back the edge, and Red's face appeared. "Who's gone?" she whispered, her voice unsteady.

"Get up, girl," Granny instructed. "Get ready to run."

"What's going on?" Red murmured, staggering to her feet in a daze.

"Come on, Red," Snow put in, taking her arm to support her.

The sounds of men shouting reached Frost's ears, and he saw the flicker of torchlight through the trees.

"They're coming," he said. "The hunters."

"We have to go," Snow gasped, pulling at Red's arm.

"Go?" Red looked around, confused. "I don't understand."

"We'll explain later," Frost assured her. "Right now, though, we must hurry. We have to get away from here; the hunters are coming, and they must not find us here."

"What?" Red blinked, looking up at him. "I'm confused. What's happened? Where's Peter?"

Snow placed a comforting hand on the side of Red's face, turning the taller girl to face her. "He wasn't the wolf," she murmured sadly.

Red looked past Snow, to the bloody corpse that was partially visible behind a log. She paled, turning to Granny. "Granny?" she whispered brokenly.

"I was wrong to keep it from you," Granny admitted. "But right now, you have to go." She glanced warily up the hill they'd descended, as the shouts of the hunters became louder.

"It's me?" Red's eyes widened in absolute horror. "Oh, gods, it's… it's _me?_ "

"Red, _go!_ " Granny ordered.

"No, not like this…" Red sobbed.

"You have to." Granny's expression was firm, but surprisingly kind.

"No, no, no, no…" Tears flowed down Red's cheeks.

"It's okay." Snow was crying too. "It's going to be okay…"

"Snow, there's no time!" Frost called. "We have to go, _now!_ They'll be here any second!"

"He's right," Granny seconded.

"I know," Snow replied quickly. "We'll get her out of here."

Frost grasped Granny's hand firmly for a moment. "I swear on my life," he vowed, "I will keep her safe."

A smile flickered across Granny's face. "Thank you. Now _go!_ " She returned her attention to the approaching torches.

Frost turned, seeing Snow and Red hurrying away. He followed after them, putting an arm around Red and helping Snow to support her.

Together, the three of them vanished into the woods, leaving the chaotic scene behind them.

* * *

_Storybrooke, Maine_

Jackson, Ruby and Emma all stared at the open jewelry box resting on the desk.

"Is that what I think it is?" Ruby asked.

Emma nodded. "Yeah."

"I can't look." Ruby turned away, placing a hand over her mouth and nose and hiding her face against Jackson's chest.

Jackson took a deep, slow breath, placing one arm around Ruby's shoulders to comfort her. This was a cover, of course; he was actually using his enhanced sense of smell to pick up the various scents around the box. There were the smells of mud and river water; an odd, subdued scent that he couldn't identify; and, finally, the faint smell of blood, which still seemed oddly faint considering what was in the box.

His brief examination was cut off abruptly as Emma closed the box and turned to face Ruby. "You okay?" she asked, her voice surprisingly gentle.

Ruby shook her head. "I don't know what I am."

"It's going to be all right. We can figure out what happened now." Emma smiled. "Ruby, you did good." Her gaze shifted to Jackson. " _Both_ of you."

"This is doing good?" Ruby's voice quivered.

"Yeah," Emma replied earnestly. "It's _amazing_. First you found David, and now this. I know you say that you don't know what you are, but whatever it is, I've got to say, I'm impressed."

"Don't be." Ruby smiled, but her hands were shaking. "I'm… I'm scared out of my mind."

Jackson smiled, pulling her into a comforting hug. "But you did it anyway," he murmured, loud enough that both Ruby and Emma could hear it. "And that's what matters."

After a long moment, Ruby stopped shaking, and she looked up at Jackson with a faint smile. "Thanks, Jackson."

He grinned. "No problem."

"Hey, listen," Emma spoke up, "it's getting late; you should probably get home, Ruby."

Ruby nodded, chuckling. "Yeah, I should." She leaned up and kissed Jackson on the cheek. "I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"

Jackson blushed despite himself and smiled. "Sounds good."

Ruby turned and walked out of the room, leaving Jackson alone with Emma.

"Well, I think I should probably be going too," he said after a couple of seconds, heading over to the coat rack where he had left his jacket.

"Hey, Jackson, just so you know; you did well too," Emma informed him. "Thanks for the help."

"Glad I could help out, Sheriff," Jackson replied, grinning. He started towards the door, and then stopped abruptly, turning around. "You know…"

Emma turned back to face him. "Yeah?"

"Well, I was wondering; you don't really have anyone else working in the sheriff's department, do you?"

She shrugged. "Not right now, no. I used to be a deputy for Sheriff Graham, but… he died a few weeks before you came to Storybrooke." There was a note of sadness in her voice.

"Right." Jackson contemplated that for a moment. "Well, if you need any help around here, I'd be glad to help out. Seems like you could use at least one deputy around here, and I've got some experience with law enforcement from my hometown in California." He smirked faintly at the thought of that. _If that dumbass Stilinski could see me now._

Emma raised an eyebrow. "Seriously? You want a job here?"

Jackson shrugged. "Why not? I could use something to do; I'm going to go nuts if I keep doing the same thing every day like everyone else in this town."

For a few seconds, Emma appeared to be considering the idea. Then, finally, she nodded. "All right, I suppose we could try it for a while and see how it goes. You can come in tomorrow and we'll fill out the paperwork."

Jackson's lips curved in a smile. "Sounds perfect."

* * *

The next night, Emma's car pulled up outside the town's veterinary clinic, where David volunteered. According to Emma, both David and Mary Margaret were waiting inside to hear what Emma's investigation had found.

Jackson had mixed feelings regarding the day's events. On one hand, Ruby had decided to take her old job back at the diner and had patched things up with Granny. Also, he and Emma had just finished filling out the paperwork for his addition to the Storybrooke sheriff's department.

On the other hand, what the investigation had turned up the previous day was chilling, to say the least. Instead of a missing person's case, this was now a potential murder investigation.

Jackson followed Emma inside, to see David sitting on one of the waiting room chairs. Mary Margaret sat next to him, a caring expression on her face. They both turned when Emma entered the room.

"What is it?" David asked, standing up. "Did you find her?"

"We found a box," Emma replied.

David frowned in confusion. "Wait… what does that mean?"

"We think it…" Emma paused, clearly struggling to say it out loud. "We think that she…" She cleared her throat.

David took a step forward, his eyes wide. "What?"

Jackson placed a hand on Emma's shoulder. "We found a jewelry box, buried down by the toll bridge in the woods," he finished in a low voice. "And there was a human heart inside."

David staggered, looking as if he had just been punched in the gut. His eyes brimmed with tears.

"Oh, my god," Mary Margaret whispered.

"No," David sobbed, sitting down on one of the chairs and burying his face in his hands. "No…"

"We're going to send it out for some tests," Emma explained, "but... there aren't any other missing people in Storybrooke right now."

Mary Margaret placed a supportive hand on David's shoulder. "Maybe you should go," she said, glancing over at Emma and Jackson.

Emma paused briefly and then continued, "There's more."

David looked up. "What?"

"There were fingerprints inside the lid of the box. I ran them through the records of everyone in town, and there was a match." Emma remained silent, looking at David and Mary Margaret.

David was the first to react; he stood up, his expression firm. "Arrest me."

Mary Margaret's eyes widened. "No, David!"

"Arrest me, Emma," David repeated. "Do it!"

"David, the fingerprints weren't yours," Emma replied.

David froze, staring at Emma with a look of complete confusion on his face. "What?"

"Hang on," Jackson spoke up. "You didn't tell me about this part. If they weren't his, then whose were they?"

Emma shook her head slowly, and then shifted her gaze to Mary Margaret.

"They were Mary Margaret's."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter, Jack, Red and Charming continue their quest to evade King George and reunite Charming with Snow White, and Jackson finds himself pitted against Regina as the investigation into Kathryn's disappearance continues.


	9. Into Darkness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In a flashback, Jack, Red and Charming continue their search for Snow White, and Jack and Charming are forced to try and prevent Snow from assassinating the Evil Queen. In the present day, Jackson and Emma go up against Regina in the investigation into Kathryn's disappearance, and Jackson makes a shocking discovery of his own.

_In the Enchanted Forest…_

Jack, Red and Prince James sat around a small campfire. They had been riding throughout the day, and all three had needed to stop and rest.

Abruptly, Red lifted her head and started looking around. Her eyes were wide and nervous. James frowned as he noticed her expression, and reached cautiously for his sword as a precaution.

"Red?" Jack asked. "What's wrong?"

She blinked, looking over at him. "I smell something," she murmured.

Then a _twang_ cut through the momentary silence, and a flaming arrow shot out of the woods, aimed squarely at Red's head.

"Red, look out!" James shouted.

Jack and James reacted simultaneously: a bolt of ice from Jack's staff knocked the arrow away, snuffing out the flame, as James grabbed Red and pulled her into cover. A moment later, a chorus of shouts echoed through the trees, and a group of soldiers burst into the clearing some distance away, riding towards them.

"Oh, _come on!_ " Jack complained.

"We need to move," James snapped. "They've found us."

Jack nodded. "Right. Let's go!" He fired a quick burst of frost from his staff to put out the fire, and the three of them ran for James's horse, snatching up the supplies they'd had with them as they moved.

James scrambled onto his horse, and then extended a hand down to Red to help her up. However, she shook her head, taking a step back. "Go," she ordered. "I'll take care of them."

"Red, I'm not leaving you," Jack said earnestly.

"Neither am I," James added.

"Find Snow," Red said with determination. "That's all that matters. Find her!"

After a long moment, James nodded reluctantly. "What are you going to do?" he asked.

Red looked up at the sky: the two men followed her gaze and saw a full moon hanging overhead.

Red grinned. "I'm giving you a head start." She turned to face the oncoming soldiers and leaned forward slightly, before throwing off her red cloak.

As they watched, she smiled, her eyes flashing bright yellow, and then sprang into motion, running towards the soldiers. In midstride, her form blurred, her body dropping forwards and expanding, as she transformed into a massive, dark brown wolf. Letting out a snarl, she leaped upwards, slamming into one of the soldiers and knocking him backwards off of his horse.

"Jack, let's go!" James called.

Jack shook his head, glancing back over his shoulder towards the fight. "No. You need to go, but I can't leave Red. So get moving. We'll buy you as much time as we can, and meet up with you later."

Apparently realizing that there would be no point in arguing, James nodded reluctantly. "Very well. Good luck to you."

"And to you," Jack returned. He raised his staff, which began to glow faintly with blue light. "Now go! Your true love is waiting for you."

James smiled faintly, and then turned his horse, spurring it on. The horse raced off towards the forest, as Jack took off at a run, sprinting back towards the soldiers. Looking over his shoulder, James watched in astonishment as Jack leaped impossibly high into the air, as if the air had simply grasped him and flung him aloft. In midair, he fired half a dozen bolts of blue light from his staff, striking down several soldiers.

Landing beside the wolf, Jack grinned fearlessly, firing three more energy bolts into the air. This time, however, they curved back down to strike the ground around the group of soldiers. And just as they had earlier that day, three mounds of ice and snow rose up, morphing into a trio of massive, golem-like creatures. The monsters roared, the sound ringing out like a clap of thunder.

"To me!" Jack ordered with a sweep of his arm. The golems roared again, and charged into battle.

Turning his back on the mayhem, James rode onwards, vanishing into the forest and leaving the raging battle behind him.

* * *

_Storybrooke…_

Jackson sat in a chair, watching as Emma took Mary Margaret's mugshot pictures.

"Please turn to the right," Emma instructed.

"Emma, this is a mistake," Mary Margaret insisted. "I didn't kill Kathryn."

"Of course you didn't," Emma agreed. "But, while I am your friend, I'm also the sheriff. And I have to go where the evidence leads."

"Which points to _me?_ " Mary Margaret asked in disbelief. "Emma, yesterday it was David. There's something not right here."

Emma nodded. "I know. But your fingerprints were on that box, and his are not. So now we have to deal with… this."

"Evidence that says I cut out Kathryn's heart," Mary Margaret murmured, "and buried it in the woods." She shivered. "This is insane."

After a few seconds, Emma sighed. "If I don't book you, with all this evidence, it's going to look like favoritism. And then Regina will have cause, and she'll fire me. And then you know what she'll do? She'll bring in someone who will railroad you. So, please, just try to be patient, and trust me. We can't even move forward until we verify that the heart belonged to Kathryn, and I'm still waiting for the DNA test results. But, in the meantime, you need to bear with me. I have to ask you a few questions."

Nodding slowly, Mary Margaret frowned. "This is crazy," she insisted. "I would never hurt anyone."

Jackson's eyes narrowed. He had spent the duration of that conversation focusing on Mary Margaret's heartbeat, listening for any signs that she might be lying; he had become very good at that after Derek had taught him how to do it. As he'd expected, her heart was steady. She was afraid, yes, but she was telling the truth. Plus, he was already convinced that she didn't have a mean bone in her body.

 _Well, there's the easy part done,_ he thought to himself. _Now we just have to figure out who actually did it. And prove that it wasn't her._

He sighed. _I have a feeling I'm going to regret getting involved here._

* * *

_In the Enchanted Forest…_

Jack Frost raced nimbly through the forest, moving at a speed that would have seemed impossible to a normal human. He was a blur, constantly in motion, rushing through the trees with astonishing grace and agility. It was as if he were dancing rather than running: not a single fallen tree branch impeded his progress. Red's hood and cloak were tucked over one arm.

Sensing that he was close, Jack leaped impossibly high into the air, backflipping in midair, and landed lightly on the limb of a massive tree. Glancing around, he soon caught sight of his quarry in the growing light of dawn: the familiar shape of the massive brown wolf, loping through the trees some distance away.

Jack grinned, his blue eyes sparkling with enthusiasm, and jumped off the branch, exploding into motion the instant his feet touched the ground. Within minutes, he had caught up to the wolf, just as it entered a clearing among the trees. He landed beside a tree at the edge of the clearing and watched as the wolf paced into the middle of the clearing and howled at the brightening sky. That was his cue: he darted forward, pulling the hood and cape off of his arm and holding it up. Just as the wolf turned to face him, he swept the cloak over her with a swift, practiced motion.

There was a flash of red light, and it was done. The wolf's massive body shrank, diminishing in size and mass, and reverted into a human figure. A moment later, Red's head emerged from under the hood, blinking as the yellow glow in her eyes faded back to their usual blue. She looked up at him, confused, and then smiled.

"Welcome back," Jack said with a grin. He extended a hand and took hers, lifting her to her feet as she fastened the cloak around her. "Are you all right?"

"Yes," she murmured, wincing as she extended one arm. "I must have caught a few nicks, that's all." She pushed back the cloak, revealing a cut on one of her forearms, and another on her lower leg. There was also a spot on her left side where her clothes were torn over a large cut, indicating the place where a sword had caught her left flank as the wolf. Her accelerated healing ability was already going to work, however, quickly repairing the wounds.

"Are you all right?" Jack asked anxiously.

Red smiled. "I'll be fine. Right now, though, we need to find the prince."

Jack nodded. "Agreed." He offered her his hand. "Shall we? We'll find him faster my way."

Red nodded, taking his hand. He glanced around cautiously, and then slammed his staff down on the forest floor. Blue smoke enveloped them, and they were gone.

* * *

_Storybrooke…_

Jackson leaned against the wall, trying to contain his growing irritation as he listened to Mary Margaret's ongoing interrogation. He had managed to avoid seeing Regina so far, as he had no desire to lay eyes on her unless it was absolutely necessary.

Right now, the woman in question was doing her best to try and manipulate Mary Margaret into seeming as guilty as possible.

"Miss Blanchard," she was saying, "it's okay. I know what you're going through. I know what it's like to lose someone you love, to be publicly humiliated. It put me in a very dark place. Changed me." She paused, just long enough to make the implication. "I can only imagine what losing David Nolan did to you."

"But I haven't changed," Mary Margaret protested. "I'm still the same person I've always been – a good person. I did not do this."

"Can I speak to you in the hallway, please?" Emma asked flatly. Her tone of voice confirmed what Jackson had already suspected: she was pissed off.

Moments later, the door opened, and Emma and Regina exited the office. As soon as the door closed behind them, Emma turned on Regina. "I told you to leave the questioning to me," she snapped.

Regina, unperturbed, raised an eyebrow. "How do you know she didn't do it? If that box was stolen from her as she claims, don't you think there'd be signs of a break-in?" She didn't wait for Emma to reply. "Well, you're her roommate: tell me. Has there been a break-in?" She sighed. "She is a woman who's had her heart broken, and that… that can make you do unspeakable things."

As she finished speaking, she turned to glance down the hallway, and her gaze fell on Jackson. Her eyes widened. "What the hell is _he_ doing here?" she demanded coldly.

"I work here," Jackson replied with a smirk. He stood up straight and walked down the hallway to meet her. "Good to see you again, Regina."

She wasn't amused. "What do you mean, you work here?"

"I hired him," Emma replied evenly. "I needed some help around here, and Jackson has experience in law enforcement, so he seemed like a good choice."

Regina glared at Jackson, who shrugged. "She's right. Plus I needed something to keep me busy: this town of yours is _way_ too boring for my tastes."

"Well, I can't say I approve of this," Regina said coolly, fixing Jackson with a withering glare. "You should know, Miss Swan, that this man has been spending altogether too much time around my son."

Emma frowned, glancing over at Jackson with a puzzled expression on her face. "What's she talking about?"

Jackson laughed. "Oh, Henry came up and said hi to me once a couple of days ago, while I was having breakfast at Granny's. He wanted to know why I was in Storybrooke. Told me a bunch of stuff about fairy tales and things like that. He's a very imaginative kid."

"Yes, he certainly is," Regina shot back. Her eyes narrowed. "Well, I suppose we should continue. Good day, Mr. Whittemore." Turning, she ducked back into the interview room.

Jackson raised an eyebrow. "Yikes," he muttered. "That lady needs some _serious_ anger-management therapy. I've got no idea why she hates me so much, but I'm willing to bet it's not just because her kid decided to ask me some questions about fairy tales."

"Yeah, no kidding," Emma replied. "I'd better get back in there." She sighed, and walked back into the room to continue the interview with Mary Margaret.

Left alone, Jackson shrugged, turned away and strolled off down the hall, whistling idly to himself.

* * *

_In the Enchanted Forest…_

With a burst of blue smoke, Jack and Red materialized outside a small cottage by the edge of a forest clearing.

"This is where she lives?" Jack inquired.

"Well, I'm not sure if she's here, but this is where some of her closest friends live," Red answered. "If anyone knows where she is, the dwarves will."

Jack nodded. "Sounds good."

The pair walked up to the door, Red leaning on Jack to ease the pain in her leg. Jack knocked on the front door, which was quickly opened to reveal Happy, one of the dwarves who had befriended Snow. "Oh, Jack!" he exclaimed. "And Red! Good to see you!"

"You too, Happy," Jack replied with a smile, recognizing the dwarf. "Red's hurt: can you help us?"

"Oh, yes, absolutely! Come in, come in." Happy held the door open for them and closed it behind them as they walked in.

As they entered the main room and Jack lifted Red onto the table, the rest of the dwarves hurried into the room. To Jack's surprise, he could only count six of them. "Where's Grumpy?" he asked.

There was a collective hesitation among the dwarves, before Doc stepped forward. "He went after Snow," he said quietly. "She's run off; she's planning to kill the Queen."

" _She's **what?**_ " Jack and Red exclaimed simultaneously.

"She drank a potion that Rumplestiltskin gave her," Doc explained as he began examining Red's injuries. "It made her forget about her prince. After that, she… she changed. She's become cruel, mean-hearted, angry at everything around her. And now she's decided to kill Regina."

Jack took a step forward, a dangerous glint in his blue eyes. "Where did they go?" he asked in an urgent tone. "If you can tell me where they are, I can find her."

"Grumpy was going to try to convince her to go see Rumplestiltskin again," Happy informed him. "We were hoping that he might have a way to undo the potion."

Considering this, Jack nodded. "All right, then. I'll go find her. I'll start at the Dark Castle." He took Red's hand, looking into her eyes. "You'll be okay here?"

"Yeah." Red nodded, smiling. "I'll be fine. Go find Snow."

"I will." Jack kissed her softly on the lips and then stood, turning and heading for the door. "I'll be back as soon as I can." He swept out the door and was gone, vanishing in a swirl of blue smoke before he'd gone three steps.

"Hold still," Doc instructed Red as he began to clean and bandage the cut on her arm. "I'll have you fixed up in no time."

Red smiled. "Thanks." Her gaze absentmindedly strayed to the door.

"Be safe, Jack," she whispered under her breath.

* * *

_The Dark Castle…_

Prince James burst through the front doors of the Dark One's castle, looking around warily. "Rumplestiltskin!" he shouted. "Show yourself!"

"Still dressing like a prince, I see," Rumplestiltskin said casually as he appeared behind James. "Even though you ran away from the life I gave you." He raised an eyebrow. "How's that for gratitude?"

"You gave me a prison sentence," James snapped.

"Yes, one that you've now skirted," Rumplestiltskin countered. He smirked. "Careful, dearie. King George is a vengeful man."

"I'm here about Snow," James said firmly. "Rumor has it, she's after the Queen and she came to you for help."

"Yes, indeed," the dark wizard replied, chuckling.

James's eyes narrowed, flashing with anger. "What did you do to her?" he demanded, drawing his sword.

Before Rumplestiltskin had a chance to say anything, there was a burst of blue smoke in the open doorway. A human figure strode out of the smoke – Jack Frost, his staff glowing, a furious expression on his face.

"Well, hello there, Frost," Rumplestiltskin replied, actually appearing surprised for a moment. "What can I do for you?"

"I'm in no mood for your games," Jack snapped, his eyes flashing with anger as his gaze locked on the evil wizard. "What the hell have you done to Snow White, Rumple?"

"What did _I_ do to her?" Rumplestiltskin protested. He pointed one claw-like fingernail at James. "You mean, what did _he_ do to her." He smirked, shifting his attention to James as he paced around the wooden table in the center of the entrance hall. " _You_ caused her pain. Without that pain, she would never have drank my potion to forget about you. _That's_ what changed her."

"Undo the potion," James ordered. "All magic can be broken."

"Oh, yes," Rumplestiltskin replied with a laugh. "With _twoo wuv_."

"True love's kiss," Jack murmured in realization.

"So that's it, then?" James asked, hope in his eyes. "True love's kiss will awaken her?"

Rumplestiltskin nodded. "Most certainly. But it's going to be hard to kiss her when you don't know where she is."

Jack sighed. "What do you want?"

"From you, nothing." Rumplestiltskin turned to James. "From you…" He considered. "How about… your cloak?"

James frowned. "My cloak? Why would you want my cloak?"

The wizard shrugged. "It's drafty in here."

Without hesitation, James removed his cloak and placed it down on the table.

"Where is she?" he asked again.

"On her way to the Queen's Highway," Rumplestiltskin replied casually, removing a rolled-up map from his sleeve and unfolding it with a single flick. "This is the route she's taking. But you'd better be quick, because if she kills the Queen... she becomes as evil as the woman whose life she takes."

Jack felt a chill run up his spine.

"She could never become that evil," James insisted, shaking his head. He started towards the door, and Jack followed close behind.

"Evil isn't born, dearie," Rumplestiltskin called after them. "It's made. If Snow starts down that road, you'll never get her back."

* * *

As Jack and James hurried through the woods, Jack turned to face the prince. "All right, we should probably split up," he suggested. "We'll cover more ground that way. We'll meet up at the spot Rumple specified on the map in a few hours. If we haven't found her by then, we have a problem."

"Right," James agreed. "Let's get moving." He hurried off in the direction they'd been going, while Jack cut off at a tangent, disappearing into the woods like a ghost.

* * *

_Several hours later…_

Jack ran through the dark forest, his senses on full alert as he scanned his surroundings for any sign of Snow. So far, he hadn't seen anything: he'd made a loop through the woods on the east side of the trail, while James had done the same on the west side. He'd returned to the spot where they were supposed to meet, but had found that James hadn't returned, so he'd promptly gone after him.

Rounding a large tree at full speed, he nearly slammed head-on into James, who had been running in the other direction. They both crashed to the ground.

"Watch where you're going!" Jack groaned, rubbing his head as they clambered to their feet.

"You can yell at me later," James snapped. "Right now, we have to go!" He turned and dashed off into the woods, with Jack following close behind.

"What happened?" Jack called as he chased after James.

"I found Snow," the prince answered, not breaking stride as Jack caught up with him. "I kissed her, but it didn't work. Since she doesn't remember me, she doesn't love me, and true love's kiss doesn't work on her." He grimaced. "She knocked me out, tied me to a tree, and then left to kill the Queen. I tried to persuade her to stop, but…" He shook his head as best he could while running. "She wouldn't listen to me. I've never seen her like this."

"Well, if true love's kiss won't work, then what do we do?" Jack panted as they ran.

"Actually, I think it still might, if I can go about it the right way," James replied. "She doesn't remember who I am, but I might be able to make her remember who _she_ is."

* * *

_Granny's Diner, Storybrooke_

Jackson sat alone at a corner table, glancing around the room as he sipped from a mug of hot chocolate. The day's events had been very interesting, to say the least, and he had no idea what to do about the situation. Regina's attitude was continuing to piss him off, and the difficulty that he and Emma were having with the Kathryn Nolan case hadn't been helping matters. In addition, Mary Margaret had decided to take on that Mr. Gold guy as her defense lawyer, which had resulted in Jackson's trying to avoid Gold as much as possible. Frankly, the guy gave him the creeps.

Finally, worst of all, the results from the lab tests on the heart had finally come in, confirming that the heart had belonged to Kathryn.

"You feeling all right?" Ruby inquired as she walked over to him, bending down under the pretenses of cleaning his table so she could talk to him without Granny getting irritated.

Smiling faintly, Jackson looked up at her. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just got a lot of things on my mind, I guess."

She nodded sympathetically. "How's the police work going?"

"Not well." He sighed, lowering his gaze to the mug in his hands. "I'm pretty much convinced that Mary Margaret is innocent of whatever happened to Kathryn, but I've got no idea how to find enough proof to clear her name, and Regina's doing everything she can to ruin her case." Glancing up at her again, he raised an eyebrow. "You wouldn't happen to have any ideas, would you?"

Ruby considered. "Not at the moment, but…" She smirked. "I'll see if I can come up with something. Mary Margaret's my friend, and I'll gladly help prove her innocent, especially if it means we get to screw over Regina in the process."

Jackson chuckled. "Smart, sexy, _and_ devious?" His lips curved in a smirk. "How lucky can I get?"

Ruby's cheeks flushed scarlet, and she grinned flirtatiously back at him. "We'll have to see about that," she replied, winking. She bent down, kissing him softly on the lips, before turning and sauntering back to the kitchen.

As Jackson leaned back against the seat of his booth, he smiled to himself. _I'm really starting to like this town,_ he thought.

* * *

Outside the diner, at the edge of the nearby forest, a pair of cold blue eyes gazed intently at the young man visible in the window of the diner.

The eyes narrowed, flashing bright red, and then moved away, vanishing into the darkness.

* * *

_In the Enchanted Forest…_

Snow White crouched on the top of a hill, concealed among several bushes as she gazed intently down at the road running through the forest below. A group of black-armored knights were approaching on horseback from the north. It was easy to recognize the black-clad woman in the front of the group: Regina, the Evil Queen.

"Clear the road!" one of the knights shouted. "Bow your heads before the queen!"

Snow's eyes narrowed as she notched an arrow to her bowstring, drawing it back and taking careful aim at Regina. _Three… two… one… now!_

She released the arrow, which flew straight and true, aimed directly at Regina – until a dark figure leaped out from behind a tree about halfway down the hill, taking the arrow in his shoulder and falling to the ground with a cry of pain.

Snow gazed in shock at what had just happened, her eyes wide, before she hurried down the hill to the place where the man's body had fallen. She reached him just in time to see the man – Prince James – sitting up weakly, one hand pressed against his left shoulder, where the arrow was embedded in his flesh. "What do you think you're _doing?!_ " Snow hissed, pulling him behind a tree to conceal them. "Why would you do this?"

James clenched his hands tightly into fists, gritting his teeth to prevent himself from yelling in pain and giving away their position. "Well," he gasped, "because… you said you appreciate… action more than words. So, now… you're going to get both." He gazed at her with nothing but honesty and love in his eyes. "I love you, Snow."

She blinked. "But… I don't love you. I don't even remember you."

"Well, I don't care," James said decisively, wincing in pain. "The only thing I care about is that you don't forget who you really are. I would rather die… than let you fill your heart with darkness."

Snow's eyes widened, and her expression softened. "You… you would really die for me?"

James motioned to the arrow sticking out of his shoulder. "Does it look like I'm making this up?"

"No one's ever done anything like this for me before," Snow murmured. "No one's ever been willing to die for me."

The prince's eyes were clear. "No one you can remember," he replied simply.

They gazed into each other's eyes for a long moment, and then slowly, hesitantly, leaned in, their lips meeting in a soft kiss.

Although neither of them could see him at the moment, Jack Frost, who was watching them from a few yards away, was grinning from ear to ear.

After a few seconds, Snow and James pulled away from each other. When Snow's eyes opened again, something in them had changed: softened, almost. "Charming?" she whispered.

James smiled. "Yes. It's me."

Snow laughed in delight, and kissed him again.

"Sorry to interrupt the happy couple," Jack commented, leaning against a nearby tree with his staff in hand, "but we should really be going."

Snow beamed as she turned to face him. "Jack!"

"Hey there, Snow," Jack replied with a grin, wrapping his arms around her and lifting her into the air in a tight hug. "Good to have you back."

"It's good to see you too." Snow turned anxiously to James. "Can you help him?"

"Of course." Jack leaned down next to James, taking a gentle grip on the arrow. "Now, this won't hurt a bit." He promptly yanked the arrow out, drawing a cry of pain from the prince.

"Ow!" James exclaimed, looking up at him in surprise and pain.

Jack shrugged. "I lied." Placing his hand against James's shoulder, he channeled a flow of ice, forming a coating of frost to clean out and numb the injury. "Don't worry, you'll be just fine. Now, I suggest we get out of here before–"

"Hey!" a voice yelled.

"Oh, no," Snow gasped.

"King George's army," James muttered. With no time to waste, he immediately pulled the hood of Snow's cloak down over her face, concealing her identity. Jack tossed his staff behind a tree to hide it and lifted his own hood over his head, covering his face and hiding his distinctive hair. Since James couldn't do the same, however, he was immediately recognized.

Several knights descended on the trio, grabbing James and hauling him to his feet. Jack and Snow were also seized by groups of armed knights, holding them forcibly in place.

"No!" Snow cried.

Jack's mind was racing, trying to come up with a plan. Even with his powers, there was no way he could take on this many knights at once, while also trying to protect Snow and James.

"Prince James," one of the knights growled, tugging James towards a nearby carriage that had been converted into a jail cell: basically a large cage, mounted on a cart.

"Leave the others," the lead knight ordered. "We have who we came for."

The knights released Snow and Jack, shoving them away contemptuously, and hauled James into the cell.

"No!" James roared, struggling against his guards as they slammed the cell door closed behind him.

"James!" Snow cried, horrified, as the carriage began moving away from them.

"Snow!" they heard James shout. "Snow!"

"I will find you!" Snow yelled after him as he vanished from sight, the knights surrounding the carriage to deter pursuit. She smiled faintly. "I will always find you," she murmured quietly, echoing James's usual refrain.

Jack retrieved his staff from where he'd dropped it, holding it up in one hand as he walked back over to her. "Snow, we need to get out of here," he said urgently, taking her hand and pulling her away. "We'll help him as soon as we can, but right now we need to go."

Reluctantly, she nodded, letting him lead her away. Once they were out of the soldiers' line of sight, Jack slammed down his staff on the forest floor, and they vanished in a swirl of blue smoke.

* * *

_Storybrooke…_

Jackson walked out of the diner into the cold night air. He shivered, zipping up his jacket, and started across the parking lot towards the entrance to the motel. Halfway across, however, he stopped, glancing around. He felt a chill that had nothing to do with the weather. A strange sensation ran down the back of his neck. It was like an electric charge, as if his hair was standing on end.

Jackson's eyes flickered blue as he glanced around the parking lot, towards the dark treeline beyond the motel. And then he froze in place, his eyes widening in astonishment.

Visible among the trees, hanging in the darkness, was a pair of glowing red eyes.

Staring directly at him.

Jackson stared at the glowing eyes, rooted to the spot in shock. _Is that… a werewolf?!_

Suddenly, the eyes disappeared, vanishing into the darkness. Jackson's keen ears picked up the sound of rapid footsteps, moving away into the woods.

 _Oh, no, you don't!_ He growled, his fingernails extending into claws as he shrugged off his jacket and tossed it aside, bursting into motion in the next instant. His eyes lit up, glowing blue, and his canines elongated into fangs as he barreled across the parking lot, racing into the trees and dropping to all fours as he completed the shift.

There it was: the scent trail, like a magnet to his senses. The instantly recognizable scent of another werewolf.

Jackson snarled, letting his own inner wolf guide him, as he raced through the woods in pursuit. _You're not getting away from me!_

* * *

_The Seven Dwarves' cottage, in the Enchanted Forest…_

Red and the dwarves were seated around the table, eating dinner, when a knock sounded at the door. It opened a moment later, admitting the familiar figures of Snow White and Jack Frost. Snow was carrying a mug in one hand, and set it down on the table.

Grumpy blinked, looking at the mug and then up at her. "What's this?" he asked.

She shrugged. "An apology."

"We don't care about mugs."

Snow sighed. "It's the only thing I broke that I could replace." She looked slowly around, her eyes finding each of the dwarves in turn. "I'm sorry," she added softly. "All I can say is… I'm sorry."

Slowly, Grumpy stood up, looking at her with a different expression on his face. "It's you," he whispered.

Nodding, Snow smiled tearfully. "It's me."

The dwarves simultaneously leaped to their feet, laughing jubilantly, and group-hugged Snow. Jack and Red also embraced, sharing a kiss.

"You can have your old room back," Happy told Snow, grinning.

Snow smiled. "Thank you." Her expression grew more serious. "But I can't stay."

"Where are you going?" Grumpy asked in confusion.

"King George's men took Prince James," Jack informed the group. "We tried to help, but there were too many of them; there was nothing we could do."

"So we have to get him back," Snow finished.

Grumpy's reaction was immediate: he shook his head. "No, Snow, you can't do it."

"I can't let the king just kill him!" she protested. "He came back for me. It doesn't matter what happens to me now; I have to try."

He smiled faintly. "That's not what I meant." With a wave of his hand, he indicated the other dwarves, who immediately made their way over to their designated wall niches and began picking up their pickaxes and supplies.

"What I meant," Grumpy added, "was, you can't do it _alone_." He grinned. "But, luckily, you won't have to. Let's show that king what Snow White, Jack Frost, Red Riding Hood and seven dwarves can really do!"

Red smiled, leaning against Jack as he draped an arm protectively around her shoulders.

Snow exchanged a glance with Jack, smiling as she saw the triumphant grin on his face. "Then let's get to work," she said.

* * *

_In the woods outside Storybrooke…_

Jackson slowed down, coming to a halt at the crest of a ridge. His head turned, scanning the trees in every direction, as he tried to home in on the scent. It was fainter now, but he could still sense it. And now that he was fully wolfed out and his senses had sharpened correspondingly, he could sense more scent trails all around him: they were much fainter, but definitely the same scent.

 _Whoever this guy is, he's been here for a while,_ he thought. _How have I not noticed this before?_

That was when he noted the total absence of any sounds. There was no birdsong, no frogs croaking, not even the sound of crickets chirping. The only sound he could hear was the distant sound of water running from the creek, which must be fairly close by.

Slowly, Jackson straightened up, letting his facial features return to normal, but keeping his claws out and ready. His eyes closed for a moment as he listened intently, seeking any sign of movement.

By the time he heard the whisper of rushing air, it was far too late to do anything about it.

The attack came from the left. His eyes snapped open and he spun to intercept, but a force like a wrecking ball slammed into him before he could react, bowling him over and sending him tumbling end-over-end down the hillside. He caught a flash of glowing red eyes, and then he hit the ground at the bottom of the steep hill with a thunderous impact.

The force of the impact knocked the wind out of him. He lay stunned on the forest floor for a moment, until the sound of footsteps reached his ears.

"So, we meet at last," a voice remarked. The voice was male, a deep, smooth baritone, with an accent that he recognized as British. "You're the Omega."

"Didn't you ever hear that it's rude to blindside people?" Jackson muttered as he picked himself up. He couldn't see much of the other man, other than that he was dressed in dark clothing; all he could see were the glowing crimson eyes, like miniature flames in the darkness.

"I've been looking for you for quite some time," the man said casually, walking slowly in a circle around Jackson. "I stumbled across this little town a few weeks ago, and it seemed like a charming little place to spend some time recovering. Of course, I've been living in the forest since I got here, but this town seems to frown upon visitors, so I'm fairly certain it was the right decision."

Jackson's eyes narrowed as he glared at the man, remembering what red eyes meant for a werewolf from the lessons Derek had given him. "You're an Alpha, aren't you?" he asked.

The man chuckled. "You're a perceptive one." He paused for a moment. "But, to answer your question: yes, I am an Alpha."

"And what do you want with me?" Jackson demanded, keeping his claws out, braced to fight in case things turned violent.

"What I want," the man explained, "is to help you. An Omega is a rather pitiful creature, all things considered. A lone wolf, the weakest type of werewolf. Alone, with no pack to back it up, and therefore at the mercy of stronger, more dangerous predators."

"Are you going to cut to the chase, or do you just love the sound of your own voice?" Jackson commented sardonically.

"Very well, if you insist." The man shrugged. "There's not much to it, really: you need a pack, and, as fate would have it, so do I. I lost my former pack some time ago, and I'm looking for people who might be interested in joining me. Unfortunately, there aren't any other werewolves in this town, but then you showed up, and I saw my opportunity to begin anew."

Jackson frowned, looking more closely at the man in the shadows. "Who are you?" he inquired softly.

As if in response, the red glow in the man's eyes faded, and he walked forwards, out of the shadows and into the moonlight. He was tall, slightly taller than Jackson, and fairly muscular, with tousled brown hair, a lean, chiseled face, and bright, cold blue eyes. Oddly, he was twirling a cane between his hands. As Jackson watched, his eyes faded from bright red back to their normal blue.

The man smiled. "It's a pleasure to meet you, my boy. Allow me to introduce myself." His eyes narrowed, flickering red again. "My name is Deucalion."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Didn't see that coming, did you? XD
> 
> Next chapter, we find out why and how Deucalion is in Storybrooke and what he wants with Jackson, and Emma and Mary Margaret run into a madman in the woods.


	10. The Demon and the Hatter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jackson has a violent confrontation with Deucalion, while Emma goes in search of Mary Margaret and crosses paths with a madman in the woods.

_In the woods outside Storybrooke…_

"Deucalion?" Jackson asked in confusion, frowning. "What kind of name is that?"

The Alpha smirked, lazily twirling his cane between his fingers. "Witty, aren't you?" His eyes flickered red as he folded up his cane in a businesslike manner, storing it in his jacket pocket. "I've met Omegas before. Always so lonely, with no place in the world. No pack to help them, no _family_ …" He glanced up, his eyes focusing on Jackson. "I'm assuming that feeling's familiar to you."

"I get the general idea, yeah," Jackson muttered, his own eyes narrowed. "You still haven't answered my first question. What do you want with me?"

Deucalion raised an eyebrow. "Well, it's quite simple, really. You're an Omega. You have no pack, I already know that much. Lone wolves rarely survive for long: you've been lucky so far." He smiled. "I'm offering you what you don't have: a pack, somewhere to belong."

"And what makes you think I'm interested?" Jackson shot back, flexing his claws. "I don't play well with others."

The Alpha chuckled. "You know, I had people like you in my pack once: my last pack constantly challenged my authority." His chuckle faded. "They got over it eventually. I'm sure you will too."

Jackson glared at the Alpha, his eyes flickering blue. "And if I say no?"

Deucalion stared calmly back at him. "Then I shall persuade you." He considered for a moment. "Perhaps a demonstration would give you some idea of what you could gain under my leadership."

"Okay, screw this." Jackson's eyes flashed blue, and he snarled, lunging at the Alpha. His first swipe missed completely as Deucalion casually sidestepped his attack, a single lazy kick from the older werewolf sweeping his legs out from under him and causing him to fall flat on his face.

"The first lesson you must learn is simple," Deucalion drawled, as Jackson scrambled back to his feet. "You are a lone wolf… and it's been made more than clear to me throughout my life that a lone wolf rarely survives."

"Shut up," Jackson hissed. He lunged again, throwing a punch at the older man's face, but his fist hit nothing, and a swift blow to the stomach floored him again.

"But if you join me," the Alpha murmured, "you would not be alone anymore. Not only that, but you would become stronger than you are now. Not just in the sense of 'wolves are stronger together', but _literally_ stronger. By joining a pack, you would become stronger, faster, _better_ , than you are now. And, despite your… corruption… I believe you would fit in well as part of my pack."

Jackson growled as he rose to his feet, his fangs bared and claws extended, his eyes burning blue. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?" he spat.

"Your eyes, of course," Deucalion replied matter-of-factly. "Don't think I didn't notice."

Jackson stiffened, remembering what Derek had told him before he'd left Beacon Hills; his werewolf eyes glowed blue, not yellow like Scott and the other Betas in Derek's pack, because he had taken innocent lives, thus "darkening his soul" or some crap like that. To be fair, he had been the Kanima at the time, but the effects of his murder spree had stayed with him even after he'd gotten control back.

"That wasn't my fault," he bit out.

"Oh, believe me, I'm not judging," Deucalion said dryly. "If I weren't an Alpha, I assure you that my eyes would be just as blue as yours, my dear boy."

"And that's supposed to make me feel better?" Jackson snarled.

"Just trying to establish some common ground," the older man replied with a faint smile. He sighed. "It's very simple: I need a pack, and you need an Alpha. I intend to establish a new home in this area, and you are just the sort of individual I need to help me with that. And, if you're truly insistent upon refusing…" His eyes flashed red. "Then I can't very well allow an Omega to continue living in my new territory, can I?"

Jackson glared daggers at Deucalion. "And where are you planning to find other Betas to join this new pack of yours?" he growled. "Even if I said yes, you'd still need more than one, right?"

"Well, of course." Deucalion smiled. "But in a town this size, I'm sure there are at least a few worthy individuals who would be interested in accepting my offer." His smile widened, showing his fangs.

Jackson inhaled sharply. "You… you'd just go around _biting_ people?"

The Alpha shrugged. "Only if they're worthy of this gift. But if they are… then yes."

The young Omega's eyes narrowed to burning blue slits. His hands clenched into white-knuckled fists, his claws digging into his own palms and drawing blood, as his fangs ground together. He thought of the people he knew here in Storybrooke – Emma, Mary Margaret, Henry, _Ruby_ – and imagined them in the crosshairs of this monstrous werewolf. Just that image was enough to unlock a fury inside him, welling up and consuming him, lowering a red tint over his vision.

"No," he rasped, his voice harsh and strained.

Deucalion paused. "What?"

" _I said no!_ " This last bit was a full-out roar, as Jackson whirled, eyes blazing, and launched himself full-force at the Alpha.

* * *

Emma sped along the dark road, her spotlights illuminating the trees on either side of the street. A drifting fog was obscuring her view of the road, so she tapped the brakes, slowing down a bit so that she could react in time if anything happened.

As she drove, her mind was racing, trying to figure out how this had happened. She'd arrived back at the jail with Mr. Gold, trying to plan out Mary Margaret's defense, only to find Henry alone at the station, and Mary Margaret's jail cell open and empty. Somehow, the teacher had escaped and made a run for it, probably out of sheer panic more than any rational strategy, so Emma had promptly gone after her.

The sheriff was so distracted by her racing thoughts that she failed to notice the human silhouette walking along the shoulder of the road until the last moment. Her eyes widened, and she swerved, narrowly avoiding the man just as he dove out of the way, tumbling head-over-heels down the incline next to the road.

Screeching to a halt on the shoulder, Emma threw open the door and jumped out of the car, sprinting back to where the man had fallen. Fortunately, he didn't seem to be hurt, as he was already sitting up by the time she reached him.

"I'm so sorry!" she exclaimed, rushing over to him and helping him up. "Are you okay? I didn't see you there."

The man rubbed his head, letting out a groan. "Ah… I think so," he answered. He had tousled dark hair, a lean, handsome face, and a friendly smile.

"Are you sure?" Emma asked, somewhat anxiously, as she helped him up.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just not used to sharing the road with cars so late." The man grinned, stretching and rolling his neck and shoulders to loosen up. Then he glanced over at her, looking at her more closely, and his eyes widened in realization. "You're the Sheriff, aren't you?" he asked.

Emma grinned ruefully, nodding. "Yeah," she answered with a nod.

"What brings you out here in the middle of the night?"

Emma's expression grew slightly more guarded; she didn't want anyone to know what she was really doing out here, for obvious reasons. "Oh, nothing to worry about; I'm just looking for a lost dog."

"Oh, I see." The man smiled. "Well, I hope you find it."

She grinned. "Thanks."

With a nod, the guy started heading off down the road, but he was clearly limping. Emma's eyes widened. "Oh, you are hurt!"

"No, I just… twisted my ankle, I think." The guy rubbed at his leg, smiling in amusement. "I live about a mile down the road; I'll make it there okay."

Emma shook her head earnestly. "No, let me drive you. I insist."

The man looked over at her, then smiled. "Well, thank you; that's very kind." He shook her hand. "I'm Jefferson, by the way."

"Emma." She returned the handshake, and then took him by the arm to help him back towards her car.

* * *

Jackson crashed to the ground in a heap, spitting blood. He'd thrown everything he had at the Alpha, but nothing had connected; he was completely outclassed. "Damn… you…" he gasped, fingers digging into the forest floor as he tried to get back up, before collapsing.

Deucalion strolled nonchalantly towards him, flicking blood off his claws. While Jackson looked and felt like he'd been beaten half to death, the Alpha was completely unharmed. "I trust this has been an adequate lesson," he deadpanned with a note of amusement in his voice. "As it seems that you are unable to continue, we are done for tonight." He smiled. "Take some time to think it over. Once you decide that you're willing to see reason and join my pack, feel free to come and find me. I won't hide my scent, so you'll be able to track me down once you're ready."

"Go to hell," Jackson muttered, unable to muster the strength to get up.

The Alpha crouched down beside him, grasping one of his arms. "To show you that I'm serious…" Jackson felt an odd tingling sensation, and looked over to see the veins on the back of Deucalion's hand turn black, as if he was draining something out of Jackson's arm. To his surprise, the younger man felt the pain of his injuries starting to fade, melting away almost completely. Deucalion inhaled sharply, but remained still. Releasing his grasp on the younger werewolf, he rose back to his full height. "I do provide for those who are under my care, Jackson. Keep that in mind." With that, he turned and started to walk away.

However, before he'd gone more than a few steps, the Alpha paused. "Oh, and by the way, if you do insist on refusing, just know that I _will_ find new werewolves to join me. One way or another." With that, he disappeared into the trees.

Jackson lay there for a minute, feeling his enhanced healing kicking in, mending the cuts and bruises he'd accumulated over the course of the fight. All it took was a few minutes, and he was fully healed. He still felt exhausted, but he felt much better than he had at the end of the fight.

Clambering to his feet, Jackson leaned against a tree, looking around. At this point, he just wanted to go back to the inn, collapse onto his bed, and sleep for a week. But he'd gotten a bit turned around during his furious pursuit of Deucalion and the subsequent fight, and he wasn't quite sure where he was relative to the town.

"Ah, crap," he muttered. Closing his eyes and taking several deep breaths to relax, he reached out with his enhanced senses of smell and hearing, trying to identify anything that could help him to locate the town.

That was when a small, distant sound reached his perceptions. It was faint, barely audible, so it was clearly coming from quite some distance away. The sound appeared to be that of distant music, the tone soft and melancholy. Straining, turning his head slowly in an arc, he homed in on the source.

Finally, his eyes opened, flickering blue as he locked onto the source of the noise, and he started jogging through the woods towards its source. If that wasn't the town, then there was at least someone in this direction, and he could ask them how to get back.

* * *

Emma was really starting to regret the whole "good Samaritan" thing.

She'd gotten Jefferson back to his place easily enough, although she'd been surprised when his "house" turned out to be pretty much a mansion. The problem had come when it had turned out that he'd been faking his limp to draw her back there… which she'd only realized after he'd given her tea that turned out to be drugged. She'd woken up a while later with a headache, to discover that her erstwhile host had left her tied up on his couch. Fortunately, she'd been able to get free, but she had then learned that not only was the house basically on lockdown, but the man of the hour was in another room down the hall, listening to classical music while sharpening a very large and dangerous-looking pair of scissors. She had understandably hurried away, trying to find the nearest exit; instead, however, she'd found Mary Margaret, in the same position she'd been in. Emma had managed to free her friend, but they hadn't been able to get out of the house before they'd been caught by the now-gun-wielding Jefferson, who had promptly tied Mary Margaret back up.

The strangest part of this whole experience, however, was right now, as he led her into a small room with dozens of top hats lining the walls.

Clearly, this guy was nuts. But that didn't mean he wasn't dangerous, so she needed to be extremely careful.

"I don't know what you think you're doing," Emma managed, her voice a bit unsteady, "but if you hurt my friend, I swear I'll make you regret it."

"Hurt her?" Jefferson scoffed. "I'm saving her life."

"How do you figure that?"

His eyes narrowed. "Don't play stupid. We both know what happens when people try to leave Storybrooke."

Emma frowned. "What are you talking about?"

"The curse."

"What curse?"

He stared at her as if it should have been obvious. "The one keeping us trapped. All except you."

At this, Emma rolled her eyes. "Oh, for – what, have you been reading Henry's book or something?"

"Henry?" Jefferson frowned. "The Queen's father?"

" _Henry_ , the Mayor's adopted kid," Emma snapped.

"Oh!" Jefferson nodded. "That Henry. _Your_ Henry. And his book of stories, the ones you choose to ignore." His eyes narrowed. "Maybe, if you knew what I know, you wouldn't."

Emma glanced over to the corner, where there was a telescope pointed out the window; she had looked through another one earlier, and found that it had been pointed straight at the Sheriff's station where she worked. "Why have you been spying on me?" she asked.

Jefferson groaned, looking singularly exasperated, and looked out the window. "Because, for the last twenty-eight years, I've been stuck in this house. Day after day, always the same." He rounded on her. "Until one night, when _you_ , in your little yellow Bug, roll into town. And then the clock ticks, and for the first time, things start to change." His eyes gleamed. "You see, I know what you refuse to acknowledge, Emma. You're special. And you brought something precious to Storybrooke." He grinned eagerly, a touch of instability in his expression. "Magic."

Emma stared at him. "You're insane," she said quietly.

Jefferson chuckled. "Why? Because I speak the truth?"

"Because you're talking about _magic_!"

"I'm talking about what I've seen." He smirked. "Perhaps you're the one that's mad."

"Really?"

"What's crazier than seeing and not believing? Because that's exactly what you've been doing ever since you got to our little hamlet." His dark gaze became more intense. "Open your eyes. Look around. _Wake up._ Isn't it about time?"

Emma sighed. "What do you want?"

Jefferson's intensity subsided slightly as he turned to a sewing table. "I want you to get it to work," he said, sitting her down in front of the table.

Emma frowned, confused, as she looked up at him. "You want me to… get _what_ to work?" she asked.

"You're the only one who can do this," he insisted, staring fixedly at the sewing supplies on the table. His expression softened slightly, and he spoke again, almost to himself. "You're going to get it to work."

* * *

Jackson ran through the forest, homing in on the source of the music. After a while, it stopped, but he'd established the direction by now and was able to keep heading towards the source. Eventually, he finally broke through the trees, and found himself gazing up, to his surprise, at a large mansion, its exterior gleaming white.

"What the hell?" he breathed. He'd never seen this place before, but it was definitely impressive.

Pacing around the edge of the trees in the hopes that no one inside would notice him, he made his way around to the front door, planning to knock and ask for directions back into town. No one answered when he knocked, however. He looked for a doorbell, but this must've been an older house, because he couldn't find one.

Looking for another way in, he wandered around the side of the house, looking for any signs of occupants. He did find a car under a tarp, but no other way in.

 _Wait…_ He frowned. Something about the car seemed familiar. He pulled off the tarp, and stepped back with a start when he realized why it was familiar; the car was Emma's yellow Bug.

Jackson raised an eyebrow in surprise. "Emma?" he muttered. "What're you doing out here?"

That was when, from inside the house, he heard a scream.

* * *

"I can't make it work," Emma muttered, throwing up her hands in exasperation. She'd sewed together a top hat from Jefferson's supplies, but there wasn't anything different about it from the others on the walls. "What you're asking me isn't possible."

"No!" Jefferson snapped, pacing, his expression growing desperate. "It has to be. If it's not, I'm never going home. I'll be cursed to live in this house forever."

Emma frowned, looking over at him. "What's so 'cursed' about your life?" she asked. "Look at this place! It's beautiful. Doesn't seem cursed to me."

"It's cursed because, like everyone else here, what I love has been ripped from me," Jefferson answered with a heavy sigh. He looked through another telescope in the corner of the room, which was pointed out one of the windows, and then glanced back to Emma, before beckoning her over. "Here. Take a look." He stepped back, indicating the telescope.

A bit reluctantly, Emma stood up, crossed the room, and peered through the telescope. Through it, she could see a fairly small house, some distance away. A light was on in the window, showing a family eating dinner: two adults and a little girl.

"Her name's Grace," Jefferson said sadly. "Here, it's Paige. But it's really Grace. My Grace." He sighed, rubbing at his head. "Do you have any idea what it's like to watch her day in, day out, happy, with a new family? With a new _father_?"

Surprised, Emma turned to face him. "You think she's your daughter?"

"I don't 'think' – I _know_. I remember." Jefferson sighed. "But she has no idea who I am. She doesn't remember our life together, where we come from. I do. That's my curse."

"To remember," Emma murmured.

Jefferson nodded. "Back home, I always wanted what was best for her. To give her the nicest things, the best home, everything. Now I have all of that, but I don't have Grace. What good is this house, these things, if I can't share them with her?"

Emma stared at him for a moment. "But… if you really think she's your daughter, why don't you reach out to her? Why don't you tell her?"

"And destroy her reality?" Jefferson looked aghast. "I'm trapped by _knowledge_. How cruel do you think I am? You think I'd inflict that awareness on my daughter?" He rubbed at his temples, a pained expression on his face. "It's hard enough to live in a land where you don't belong. But _knowing_ it, holding conflicting realities in your head… will drive you mad."

Emma stared at him, realization dawning. "That's why you want me to make the hat work, isn't it?" she asked. "You just want to take Grace home – to your world."

Jefferson nodded slowly, his voice quiet. "It's the one world where we can be together. Where she'll remember who I am."

Emma looked at him for a long moment, as if seeing him in a new light. "I know what it's like to be separated from your kid," she said.

Jefferson chuckled softly. "Yeah, you do, don't you?"

She nodded. "It can make you feel like you're losing your mind."

Jefferson rounded on her, scowling. "I'm not losing my mind!" he snapped. "I'm not crazy. This is _real_."

Emma was quiet for a moment. "Maybe," she said finally. "Maybe it is."

His eyes widened. "You believe?"

"If what you say is true… that woman in the other room is my mother." She looked up at him, a hint of vulnerability in her eyes. "And I want to believe that more than anything in the world. So, maybe you're right. Maybe I need to open myself up to more. Maybe… if I want magic, I have to start believing."

Jefferson smiled, an excited look in his eyes, as he turned back towards the sewing table. "So, you're… you're going to help me? You can get it to work?"

"I can try."

With that, Emma grabbed Jefferson's telescope and slammed it into the side of his head with all her strength. His head snapped to the side from the force of the blow, and he crumpled to the floor like a sack of potatoes.

"Crazy son of a bitch," Emma muttered, dropping the telescope. She picked up Jefferson's gun and hurried out of the room, rushing back down the hallway until she found the room where Mary Margaret was tied up. "Hey!" Yanking the gag out of her mouth, she began untying the teacher's restraints. "It's all right, I'm gonna get you out of here. You're going to be okay; he can't hurt you anymore–"

Mary Margaret's eyes widened. "Emma, look out!" she screamed, a moment before Jefferson, having apparently regained consciousness, slammed into Emma, tackling her into Mary Margaret and sending all three of them crashing to the floor.

* * *

Jackson's eyes snapped open wide when he heard a woman's scream, coming from inside the mansion. With no hesitation, he raced up to the front door and kicked it open with a sharp crack of wood. Ducking inside, he raced up the front stairs, taking them two or three at a time, barreling towards the source of the disturbance. He could hear the sounds of a struggle coming from upstairs, and his hearing quickly pinpointed it.

Barreling down a hallway, he skidded to a halt as he saw a dark-haired guy aiming a pistol at Emma. The guy grinned, indicating a nasty-looking scar around his neck. "Off with his head," he chuckled.

"Hey!" Jackson yelled, drawing all three of their attention. He didn't really have a plan, but he knew that he could take a bullet and fare much better than Emma or Mary Margaret.

To his surprise, however, that wasn't what happened. Instead, the guy turned, an expression of total confusion appearing on his face as he stared wide-eyed at Jackson. "Jack?" he asked, frowning, his gun wavering.

That was when Mary Margaret rose up behind him and swung a croquet mallet with all of her strength, hitting the man and knocking the gun out of his hand. He staggered backwards, and she kicked him squarely in the chest, knocking him backwards into and through the window with a crash of shattered glass.

Jackson rushed forwards, joining the two women as they looked out the window. He leaned out, peering down at the ground, but all he could see was a fallen top hat and some shards of glass, the man had vanished.

"Are you all right?" he asked, turning to Emma.

"We're fine," Emma replied, nodding to him. "What're you doing here?"

"I was out for a run when I heard someone screaming," Jackson explained. He looked out of the window again. "We should probably get out of here, before he comes back."

Emma nodded. "Yeah, good idea. We've got more important things to take care of right now."

"Who was he, anyway?" Mary Margaret wondered.

Emma shook her head. "A very lonely man." She turned to Mary Margaret, raising an eyebrow. "By the way, have you been taking kickboxing and not telling me about it?"

Mary Margaret grinned nervously. "To be honest, I have no idea where that came from."

* * *

Jackson leaned against Emma's car, watching as she retrieved her keys from where Jefferson had left them in the glove compartment.

"So, Sheriff…" Mary Margaret spoke up. "I guess you'll be taking me back now."

Emma looked at her and frowned. Then, to Jackson's surprise, she tossed the keys to Mary Margaret, who caught them reflexively. "Here. Go."

Mary Margaret's eyes widened. "You… you want me to run?"

"No. But it's your choice." Emma folded her arms. "Just know something: running ain't easy. I've done my share of it. And once you go, there's no stopping."

"Emma, _everyone_ thinks I killed Kathryn." There was fear in the teacher's eyes.

"Mary Margaret, you have to believe me," Emma insisted. "You have to _trust_ me. I know it seems impossible, but I can get you out of this."

"Why is it so important to you what happens to me?"

Emma smiled faintly. "Because, when Regina frames me, and you bailed me out, I asked you why. And you said it was because you trusted me." She looked down at her feet. "And then, when I wanted to leave Storybrooke because I thought it was best for Henry, you told me that I needed to stay because _that_ was the best thing for him. And I realized… all of my life, I've been alone. Walls up. Nobody's ever been there for me like that – except for you. And I can't lose that. I cannot lose my family."

Mary Margaret's eyebrow quirked. "Family?"

"Friends. Whatever. You know what I mean." Emma locked eyes with the teacher, staring at her earnestly. "Wouldn't you rather face this together than alone?"

Mary Margaret looked from Emma, to Jackson, and back again. She blinked, swallowing.

And then she handed Emma back the keys.

* * *

Jackson woke up fairly late in his room at the inn. He'd gotten a good night's sleep, his injuries had finished healing, and he felt much better. Taking a hot shower to clean off, he strolled down the stairs and headed out to the diner for lunch.

Having a seat in his favorite booth, he grinned as he saw Ruby behind the counter. She saw him and winked, before turning back to her work.

Jackson sighed, leaning back in his booth and resting his head. Fortunately, he and Emma had been able to get Mary Margaret back to the police station with plenty of time to spare, before she'd been scheduled for her arraignment. He had to admit, the teacher was stronger than he'd given her credit for.

Stretching, Jackson hissed in pain as something twinged in his side; the beating he'd taken the previous night had healed, but he was still sore. As he rubbed his side, his gaze fell on Ruby again, and he suddenly felt a chill, as Deucalion's words once again echoed through his mind.

 _"I_ will _find new werewolves to join me. One way or another."_

Jackson's eyes narrowed, fists clenching, at the thought of Ruby, or anyone else, finding themselves in the Alpha's crosshairs. He felt anger welling up inside him, and he let that anger give him purpose.

 _I'm not going to let him hurt them. Any of them. If he wants to turn anyone in this town…_ He felt a surge of resolve, and his lips curved in a fierce grin.

_Then he'll have to go through me._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For anyone who's wondering, the reason Deucalion was able to access Storybrooke despite the curse not being broken yet is because, since he's a werewolf, his own semi-magical nature, combined with his power (since he's a very powerful Alpha) allowed him to get through the concealment spell around Storybrooke. Obviously, since he's a strong Alpha and Jackson's just an Omega, the power gap between them is pretty wide, as was demonstrated with their fight in this chapter.
> 
> Next chapter, Jackson tries to help out with Mary Margaret's defense, and in a flashback, Frost, Snow and Red encounter a dark presence in the Enchanted Forest.


	11. Nightmares

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In a flashback, Frost, Snow and Red encounter a dark presence in the Enchanted Forest. In the present, Jackson and Emma work on Mary Margaret's defense, and Emma receives some unexpected help from August.

_In the Enchanted Forest, many years ago…_

Frost lay back beside the campfire, gazing up at the stars. He, Snow and Red had been traveling together for several months now, and the three of them had become something of a family, protecting and looking out for each other. That had become even more important after their recent encounter with a pack of werewolves, including Red's supposedly-deceased mother, which had ended in tragedy. After that, Frost had felt it important to look out for Red, as she didn't have anyone else to rely upon apart from him and Snow.

"You're sure you're all right?" he murmured softly, looking down to where Red had curled up next to him, staying close to keep warm. Snow was seated on the other side of the fire, looking off into the woods; she had elected to take the first watch, as there was a village nearby, and they wanted to make sure that they had advance warning in case any soldiers or criminals happened to stumble across their campsite. While there was a full moon looming in the sky, Red had kept her cloak and hood on, not wanting to risk turning into the wolf. While her mother's pack had trained her in how to control herself in wolf form, she didn't entirely trust that the training would stick, certainly not enough to deliberately transform around her friends.

Red was quiet for a moment, looking up at him. "Yes," she whispered. "I'm all right, I just…" She was quiet for a moment. "I didn't really know her… but I still miss her. Is that strange?"

Frost shook his head. "Of course not," he assured her. "She was your mother, after all. Whoever and whatever else she might have been, that much will always be true."

Red nodded slowly. "You're right. And, whatever else she was… I think she did love me, in her own way."

"She did," Snow put in quietly, looking over at them. "I could tell." She smiled faintly at Red. "I didn't know my mother for very long either; she died when I was very young. But I know she loved me. And I know yours did too."

Red's lips curved in a faint smile.

Frost suddenly felt a strange sensation, like something crawling down his spine. As bizarre as it sounded, given his powers, he felt a chill.

Mainly because he had felt this exact sensation once before, some weeks earlier, just before that monstrous creature had attacked him and Snow.

And then he heard it: that same faint, echoing hiss, like a chorus of whispers, echoing dimly through the forest around their camp.

Snow and Red both heard it too: while Red just looked puzzled, Snow was staring wide-eyed off into the forest. She shot a look at Frost, and he saw her wide, frightened expression. He could tell, instantly, that she recognized it too.

"What is that?" Red asked. She glanced from one of them to the other, clearly nervous.

The sound filled the air around them. It grew louder and louder, like a thousand voices whispering in unison. A cold wind whipped up around them, and the voices swelled to a crescendo. But, unlike the last time, nothing charged into their camp. Instead, a shadow fell over them, blurring past in the moonlight. Moments later, another followed it, and then another.

Frost looked up. Red and Snow followed his gaze… and all three of them stared up in shock and horror.

The full moon was almost directly overhead now, casting a bright silver glow down into the clearing where the trio had made camp. But right now, that light was partially blotted out by the stream of dark, airborne figures that were streaking past in front of the moon's glow. There were dozens of them: their forms were dark and indistinct, except for their glowing orange eyes. Their batlike wings flapped, allowing them to soar effortlessly through the air. They continued streaming past, until finally they were gone, vanishing into the night. The chorus of whispers faded away, replaced by the stillness of night and the whistle of the wind.

"What the hell was that?" Red breathed, staring after the departed creatures.

"I don't know," Frost muttered. "But we've fought one of them before. It attacked our camp in the night, and it nearly killed us." He glanced to Snow, who nodded shakily at the memory of that fight.

"That many…" she murmured. "I don't even want to think about what would have happened if they'd noticed us."

"Agreed." Frost shivered. Then he frowned, turning to Snow. "I don't remember the one we fought having _wings_ , though."

She nodded slowly. "That's true… but other than that, it looked pretty much the same as those ones."

"Uh, guys?" Red spoke up. They both turned to her, as she pointed in the direction that the creatures had flown. "Wasn't there a village about a mile that way?"

The shock of realization hit Frost and Snow simultaneously.

"Oh, gods," Snow breathed. "With all of those things…"

"They won't know what hit them," Frost finished. The two of them shared a horrified expression, before they whirled back to Red.

"We have to go," Snow insisted. "Those people are innocent; they need our help. Those things are _monsters_. The only reason we survived fighting just one was because we had Frost's magic; ordinary people wouldn't stand a chance."

Frost glanced to her. "She's right; we have to go." He stepped to Red's side, resting a hand on her shoulder. "I would never ask you to risk your life; I promised your grandmother that I would keep you safe." He smiled wryly. "But… we could use your help."

Red swallowed, looking back and forth between the two of them. Her expression was nervous, but she clenched her jaw and nodded. "I'm in," she said firmly. "You're right; they need our help."

Turning back to the fire, Frost snatched up his staff, turning to face the two women. "Come on!" he called out, leading the way off into the woods, while trying to overcome the uneasy feeling in his gut.

* * *

_Storybrooke…_

Jackson reclined behind the desk in the sheriff's station. Across the room, Mary Margaret was seated in her cell, while Emma and Mr. Gold were arguing over the proper course of action for her trial.

"A pre-trial interview with the prosecution?" Emma scoffed. "Explain to me how that's a good idea."

"The D.A. merely wishes to ask Miss Blanchard a few questions," Gold assured her.

"She's done answering questions," Emma snapped. "And why are we kissing up to the D.A., anyway? Why aren't we going after Regina? She's the one who's setting up Mary Margaret."

"Which we can't prove," Jackson pointed out, drawing a scowl from his boss.

"He is right, Miss Swan," Gold remarked dryly. "What proof do we have of that? Just because you found the Mayor's skeleton key in the cell, that doesn't mean we can prove she put it there."

Emma sighed. "So, what's your plan?"

"I believe our best chance of winning this case," Gold explained, "is to employ our most valuable asset."

"And what's that?" Mary Margaret spoke up from her seat in the cell.

Gold glanced back at her and smiled. "Well, that's you, dear. A sweet, kind, elementary-school teacher. Doesn't exactly fit the profile of a killer, now does it?"

Emma raised an eyebrow. "That's how you're going to get her acquitted? By using her personality?"

"Perception is everything, Miss Swan," Gold replied calmly. "Not just in the courtroom, but in life. As such, I'm sure you can imagine how the jury would perceive Miss Blanchard, if she agreed to cooperate with the district attorney. These things engender trust. It shows the jury that she's at least trying–"

Gold was interrupted as Sidney Glass, the head of the local newspaper, entered the room, carrying a vase of flowers. "Emma?" he asked, drawing an irritated look from Gold. "Oh, I'm sorry to interrupt. I just, uh, came by to drop these off; I thought they might brighten the place up a bit."

Emma nodded. "Right. Come on, you can put it in here." She walked into her office, and Sidney followed with the vase. Jackson sent a distasteful glance after the guy; he'd met people like that before, and he got a bad vibe every time the reporter was around.

"Jackson?" He started at Mary Margaret's voice, and turned to look at her. "What do you think? Should I do it?"

Jackson looked more closely at her, then at Gold, rubbing his chin contemplatively. He was convinced that Mary Margaret was innocent, but he was also pretty sure that Regina was doing everything she could to stack this trial against her. Anything that could help to counteract that was probably a good idea. This wasn't the best option, but at the moment all that mattered was that it could be helpful.

"Yeah… yeah, I do," he answered. "I know you're a good person, Mary Margaret; that's one of the main reasons why I always knew you had nothing to do with whatever happened to this Kathryn lady. So he's right; your best option is to make sure everybody else knows it too. And this D.A. is probably a good place to start."

Mary Margaret thought that over, and then nodded with a soft smile. "Thank you, Jackson."

He grinned. "Happy to help."

Gold nodded slowly, looking curiously at Jackson, then turned back to Mary Margaret. "Young Mr. Whittemore makes a compelling case, Miss Blanchard. But, of course, the decision is yours." He leaned on his cane. "So? What do you want to do?"

Sidney left the office, with Emma right behind him. Nodding to her, the reporter headed for the exit, while Emma returned to Jackson, Gold, and Mary Margaret. "So?" she asked, looking to the other woman.

Mary Margaret considered for a moment, then looked up at Emma, her face composed. "I'm going to do it," she said decisively. "I'm going to talk to the D.A."

"Are you sure?" Emma asked.

Mary Margaret nodded. "Mr. Gold's right. So is Jackson. I know I have nothing to hide… but no one else knows that. So I need to let people see me for who I really am."

"An excellent decision, Miss Blanchard," a harsh voice cut in, drawing all eyes to the entrance. A tall, balding man with a stern expression stood there, wearing a black suit. At his side was Regina, with her usual confident smirk on her lips.

"My name is Albert Spencer," the suit-wearing man spoke up calmly. "I'm the District Attorney." His cold eyes swept the room. "Shall we begin?"

Mary Margaret nodded. "Yes."

Jackson frowned, looking more closely at Spencer. Something about the man seemed oddly familiar, but he instantly disliked him.

 _Oh, great,_ he thought sourly. _Maybe this wasn't such a good idea._

* * *

Emma groaned, leaning back on the bench. She and Jackson were sitting on the pier overlooking Storybrooke's marina; she was leafing idly through Henry's book of fairy-tale stories, while Jackson was slumped back on the bench with his eyes closed, enjoying the cool sea air.

As she'd worried, the meeting had not gone well. Spencer, the D.A., had turned out to be just as much of an asshole as he appeared at first glance; he'd spent the entire "interview" deliberately baiting and taunting Mary Margaret, trying to undermine her defense, until she'd finally lost it and snapped at him – and, in the process, she'd made herself seem even more guilty than she had been before.

"What do we do?" Jackson asked, looking over at her.

Emma let out a long, drawn-out sigh, rubbing her temples. "I don't know," she admitted. "Why don't you head back to the inn? Take the rest of the day off; you've earned it. I'll… try to figure something out. Come in tomorrow morning, and we'll make a plan."

Nodding, Jackson rose to his feet. "You got it, boss." He tossed off a leisurely salute, then turned and wandered off back towards his car.

After he left, Emma remained seated for a few more minutes, flipping through the book. She wasn't even sure what she was looking for, only that it was something to occupy her mind. And at the moment, that was what she needed.

"What're you doing?" The voice cut through the quiet, and she looked up, smiling when she saw August Booth, the town's other new arrival, standing before her.

"Grasping at straws," Emma replied with a weary grin.

August nodded understandingly. "Still trying to find a way to prove your friend's been framed?"

She shrugged. "Every time I go down a path and think it leads somewhere, it just ends up being a dead end. I used to think I had these great instincts… a superpower, even." She chuckled ruefully. "Now I don't know."

"Sounds to me like you've got a case of writer's block," August replied. He grinned. "Well, without the whole 'writing' part, anyway."

Emma snorted in amusement. "Yeah, maybe."

"Well…" August sat down on the bench beside her. "When I get struck by a block, I usually reread what I've already done, rather than just plowing ahead blindly. Sometimes, I've found there'll be a little bit of inspiration left behind."

She frowned, turning to face him. "You mean start over?"

"I mean, when I start writing, I usually have one idea. But then, in the middle, I may get another idea, and then things are different."

"So… your perspective changes."

"Exactly." August raised an eyebrow. "So, when you started this investigation, what was it about?"

"A missing person," she answered. "Then it became a murder… and then a cover-up."

"Right!" August replied. "So, if you knew that then, maybe you would have approached things differently."

Emma remained sitting there for a moment, turning that idea over in her mind. If that had been how this investigation had started out, how would she have approached it? What would she have done differently?

In the end, there was only one answer. Nodding decisively, she stood up.

"Where are you going?" August inquired.

"Scene of the crime," Emma replied, starting towards her Bug.

"I'll drive," he offered, trailing after her.

"No, I'm fine."

August cut her off, swinging around in front of her. "No, you're not," he said gently. "You look like you haven't slept in days." Then he grinned mischievously. "And, let's be honest – it was my idea."

Emma chuckled, amused, and grudgingly nodded. "All right, then. Let's go."

* * *

_In the Enchanted Forest…_

Frost, Snow and Red hurried down the forest path, racing towards the village. They had no trouble finding it; the chorus of screams and unearthly shrieks and howls that rang out through the forest did a fine job of pinpointing the village's location. As they approached, however, the screams died down, while the unnatural hisses and shrieks continued on.

As the trio came up over the crest of a hill, staring down at the village below, all three of them skidded to a halt, eyes wide in horror.

"Oh, gods," Red breathed.

Frost felt a chill run down his neck as he stared down into the village.

Dozens of the creatures swarmed through the village. Most of them were on the ground, loping among the buildings or perched on rooftops, while a few circled overhead, their batlike wings flapping. Their burning orange eyes seemed to be everywhere, darting through the shadows. Strangely, the ones on the ground seemed to no longer have wings, as if the wings had disappeared once they were no longer needed for flight. Shadows seemed to swirl around them, making their exact appearance difficult to describe, but they seemed to resemble some sort of cross between hounds and crocodiles, although their bodies were covered with jet-black fur. They were all about the same size as the creature that had attacked Frost and Snow some time earlier: larger than a man, but not as big as Red's wolf form. From what he could see, there were at least two dozen of them.

Strangely, the carnage was not nearly as severe as he'd expected; the bodies of the village's inhabitants were strewn about, but they hadn't been torn to pieces as he would have assumed. Instead, it seemed as if they had simply collapsed, lying unconscious or dead on the ground. Fires burned in several parts of the village, likely caused when the villagers had tried to defend themselves using torches.

Frost felt a surge of fury rush up his spine, and his eyes narrowed. Ice crackled in his hands as his magic rose to the surface.

"What do we do?" Red asked anxiously, glancing up at the full moon overhead.

"I don't think there's anything we _can_ do," Snow murmured. "There are too many of them for just the three of–"

Before she could get another word out, Frost charged, running straight for the village. He wasn't sure why, but just laying eyes on these creatures had filled him with an anger unlike anything he'd ever displayed, and he'd reacted without thinking.

"Frost, _no!_ " Snow exclaimed, but he could barely hear her, lost in his anger. Racing through the trees, he homed in on a single creature that was by itself, crouched over one of the fallen villagers just outside the village. As he got closer, he was surprised by what he saw. Its jaws were wide open, poised over the man's head, but it wasn't biting down; instead, what looked like a golden mist was rising into the air above the man's head, and being promptly inhaled into the creature's mouth.

While Frost had no idea what the monster was doing, for some reason the sight of this act sent a surge of horror and nausea through his gut, which welled up into a hot, burning rage. With a roar, he whirled his staff and charged.

* * *

"No!" Snow exclaimed as she saw Frost charge out of the trees and into the village. "Damn it!" she cursed, drawing her bow and readying her quiver of arrows.

"What are you doing?" Red exclaimed.

"He's my friend," Snow snapped. "I have to help him. If you want to help, then follow me. If not, stay here." She didn't have time to be sensitive about it, hurrying towards the village to help Frost.

Red stared after her for a long moment, unsure of what she should do, until her fear firmed into resolve. She looked up at the sky overhead, her eyes locking on the full moon, and began undoing the straps of her red cloak.

* * *

Frost leaped over a bench and swung his staff like a club, smashing the creature over the head and knocking it off-balance. It whipped around, snarling at him, its victim abandoned. He shoved his free hand forward, unleashing an icy blast as he tapped into his magic; the ice struck the creature's left side, sending it staggering backwards with a screech of pain as the ice coated its flank. It turned back towards him, drawing back in preparation to lunge, but it was interrupted when an arrow sprouted from its shoulder. It staggered, looking up at him, and then turned its head, its glowing orange eyes narrowing. Frost followed its gaze to see Snow notching another arrow to her bow, focusing intently on the creature. It snarled, tensing to spring at her, but Frost lunged before it could move, smashing his staff against its lower jaw and knocking it off-balance.

The creature let out a snarl, turning back to him, but another arrow buried itself in its flank before it could attack. It staggered, whirling back towards Snow, and leapt at her, but she was better prepared this time, and her next arrow went through its throat, dropping it. The monster crashed to the ground in front of her, thrashing in its death throes, and collapsed. The orange glow in its eyes faded, and, to their astonishment, it disintegrated, its body crumbling into a dissipating cloud of black sand.

Frost stared in disbelief at the monster's remains. "What?" he muttered. _I know this…_ A momentary flash of something, a memory, was welling up… but it was quickly silenced when he heard another screech, and looked up to see four more of the creatures stalking towards them, three on the ground, one on the roof of a nearby house. Their eyes shone in the gloom as they padded forwards, letting out low hisses.

"Ah, crap," he muttered.

"Frost, we need to go!" Snow called out, notching another arrow. "There's too many of them."

"Yeah, you're right," Frost murmured, backpedaling. He really hadn't thought things through when he'd charged into the village, lost in his anger. But now that he was actually here, facing the creatures, his rational mind had taken over, reminding him that this had been a very bad idea. And yet his mind wouldn't stop speaking to him, images flashing in his head… images of creatures just like this, in different places, different times, but always the same.

 _Damn it, I_ know _these things!_ , he thought to himself.

"Frost!" Snow shouted. "Let's go, now!"

Cursing as he realized he'd left himself open, Frost brought up his staff, staggering backwards. But it was too late. The closest creature snarled, its eyes burning, and sprang at him.

And then, as it was in mid-leap, another massive form hurtled across his field of vision, and a huge, reddish-brown wolf slammed into the monster, bowling it over. The two of them hit the ground opposite him, tumbling across the forest floor, locked together as they ripped and tore at each other with fang and claw. Blood spurted, gleaming in the moonlight; the wolf's was red, while the creature's was a black substance, more like oil than blood. Red, in her transformed state, was larger and heavier than the monster, but it was quicker and more agile; it wriggled out of her grasp, its tail lashing at her face and opening a thin cut across her nose. Red snarled in pain and recoiled, her fur bristling, her teeth bared, her own eyes burning gold.

"Red!" Frost shouted, his eyes wide. She'd recently learned control during her time with the other werewolves, but there was no way of knowing if that would hold up, especially when she was faced with an enemy to fight.

The wolf glanced in his direction, tilting her head. Her eyes gleamed, but he could see human intelligence there, and he was reassured when the great brown head dipped momentarily in a nod. _Good. She's in there._

The monster took advantage of Red's apparent inattentiveness and launched itself at her. Fortunately, she hadn't been distracted, and whirled back on it, surging forwards and colliding with the smaller creature. They crashed to the ground, rolling over, with Red coming out uppermost, her fangs tearing and rending. She sank her teeth into the beast's neck and, with a vicious wrench, snapped its spine. It collapsed, crumbling into black sand, and the wolf snarled, stalking away from the remains of her kill to stand between Frost and Snow and the other three creatures.

The remaining monsters did not seem to have any interest in their fallen brethren; instead, their glowing orange eyes remained locked on Frost, Snow, and the wolf. They tensed, the third creature jumping down from the roof of the house to join the first two, and prepared to charge.

Red snarled, crouching to attack. Frost tensed, readying his staff with one hand and a blast of magic with the other, and Snow notched a new arrow to her bow, ready to take aim and fire.

And then a voice echoed through the clearing, cutting them off.

" _All right, my pets. That's enough."_

Frost looked around, trying to determine where the voice was coming from, but there was no one in sight, just shadows. But the effect that the voice had on the creatures was surprising. Instantly, they crouched low, their glowing eyes narrowed to slits, their snouts brushing the ground.

"What're they doing?" Frost murmured.

"I'm not sure," Snow replied. "But it almost looks like…"

Frost looked over at the creatures again. The posture they were in…

"Like they're bowing," he breathed.

The voice spoke again, soft and cold, its tone vaguely amused. _"Well, now, little ones. What have we here?"_

* * *

_Storybrooke…_

Jackson was seated at one of the tables outside Granny's, gazing out at the woods as he waited for Emma to arrive. She had updated him on the recent developments involving Mary Margaret's case, and the news wasn't good. While she had been searching for evidence, she'd found a shard of metal at the same location where Kathryn's heart had been buried, and had linked that shard to a broken shovel in Regina's garage, making it more likely than ever that the Mayor of Storybrooke had been the one to kill Kathryn and was trying to frame Mary Margaret for the murder. The problem was that, by the time Emma had come back to her house with a warrant, the broken shovel had been replaced with one that was totally intact, leaving them with no evidence to prove the case against Regina, and almost no time left before Mary Margaret would be tried for Kathryn's murder.

In the meantime, Jackson had been trying to figure out what to do about his _other_ problem. He'd been on a couple of runs through the forest outside Storybrooke over the last couple of days, trying to make sure that Deucalion hadn't come anywhere near the town since their fight. So far he hadn't sensed any trace of the Alpha's presence, but he knew the older werewolf was still out there.

 _There has to be something I can do,_ he thought to himself. But how was he supposed to stand up to Deucalion? The older werewolf had demonstrated, quite ably, that Jackson was no match for him, and there was no one else in this town who could help him if he had to make a stand against the Alpha. He'd been trying to think of anything that could help; he'd even contemplated calling somebody back in Beacon Hills, maybe Derek or Scott. But who knew if they'd even be willing to come and help, much less be able to make it there in time?

Jackson was snapped out of his thoughts when he saw Emma's Bug pull up at the curb. She hopped out of the car and strode towards him, frowning. He raised an eyebrow and stood up to greet her.

"Morning, Sheriff," he called out with a smile and a nod as she stepped through the gate, raising an eyebrow when he saw that she was carrying a plastic evidence bag in one hand. "What's that?"

"Something we need to deal with," Emma answered, glancing down at the evidence bag with a scowl. She looked up as the door of the diner opened; Jackson turned to see that dark-haired writer guy, who he'd heard was named August, walking outside.

"Hey," Emma greeted him with a nod and a faint smile. She sighed, looking down. "I'm sorry."

August frowned. "For what?"

"For doubting you." Emma held up the evidence bag. "I made a mistake."

August looked at the bag. "What's that?"

"Evidence." Emma handed the bag to Jackson, letting him examine it; on closer inspection, it appeared to be a small electronic microphone. "Evidence that proves that I've been trusting all the wrong people. I should've listened to you." She scowled, glancing to Jackson. "This bug was from Sidney."

Jackson's eyes widened. "Wait, the newspaper guy?"

"Yeah." She nodded. "I should've seen it."

August smiled. "Well, don't beat yourself up about it, Emma. Sometimes it's hard to see what's right in front of us, but I knew you would."

Jackson rolled his eyes at that, but he chose not to say anything.

Emma grinned ruefully. "Well, I'm trying."

"And I'm sure you two can figure this out." August glanced to Jackson, who was still looking down at the evidence bag, and extended his hand. "I don't think we've met, by the way. I'm August."

"Jackson." He looked up and shook August's hand, noting a sudden flash of surprise in the man's eyes, mixed with something else that almost looked like… recognition?

Before they could say anything else, a scream cut through the air. Jackson recognized the high-pitched voice instantly.

"Ruby," he muttered, before vaulting over the fence and out of the seating area, and racing around to the back of the diner. He could hear Emma and August hurrying after him, but he ignored them. Fear seethed within him, like acid in the pit of his stomach, at the thought that Deucalion might have finally decided to carry out his threats.

Running at full speed, he rounded the back of the diner, and almost ran head-on into Ruby as she burst around the same corner. Skidding to a halt and bracing Ruby to keep her from falling, he grasped her arms to steady her. "Are you okay?" he demanded. "What's wrong?"

"Ruby!" Emma exclaimed, as she and August rushed around the building after Jackson. "What's going on?"

Ruby was shivering, her eyes wide in shock. "She…" she stammered. "She… she's in the alley."

"Who?" Emma frowned in confusion. "What happened?"

"S-she's back there." Ruby pointed back to the alley that ran on the other side of the diner, where the Dumpsters were located.

Jackson and Emma exchanged glances, before Jackson reluctantly released his hold on Ruby and followed after Emma. The two of them walked slowly into the alley, looking around for any sign of what Ruby had been talking about. Sure enough, there was a body lying in the alley, sprawled facedown between two Dumpsters. It was a blonde woman of average height; she was lying motionless, either unconscious or dead.

"Who the hell is that?" Jackson asked, confused. He'd never seen this woman before, and he had no idea who she was supposed to be, but he could easily tell that she needed help. Hurrying forward, he crouched down and put a hand on her shoulder, carefully turning her over so he could check her for injuries. He couldn't remember seeing her face before, but something about her seemed oddly familiar. Luckily, she seemed to be unhurt.

The woman's eyes opened, blinking weakly. When she saw Jackson, she let out a gasp and jerked back.

"Whoa!" Jackson soothed her, holding out a hand reassuringly. "Take it easy; I'm not gonna hurt you."

Emma inhaled sharply as she saw the woman's face. "Kathryn?" she whispered in shock.

Jackson whipped around, his eyes wide as he stared up at her. "Wait, _this_ is Kathryn?!" he asked in disbelief. "I thought…" He looked back at the woman, frowning. _Isn't she supposed to be dead?!_

However this had happened, he got the distinct feeling that things had just taken a very significant turn.

* * *

_In the Enchanted Forest…_

Frost stood protectively in front of Snow, both of them looking around warily as they tried to locate the source of the mysterious voice. The trio of monstrous creatures in front of them remained motionless, crouched in submission.

" _Some would-be heroes, I see,"_ the soft, cold voice murmured, echoing from the shadows. _"How interesting. The wolf, especially; I've always been fascinated with those who can change shape. It served as something of a source of inspiration for me, when creating my little pets here."_ The voice chuckled softly. _"What do you think of them? Beautiful, aren't they?"_

"I'd call them monsters," Snow retorted. "As is anyone who would use creatures like this to harm the innocent."

This drew a full-voiced laugh. _"Such harsh words! But your bravery is admirable, my dear girl."_

At that moment, Frost caught a brief glimpse of movement to their left, in the shadows along the side of one house. With a yell, he flung his hand out, unleashing a blast of magic that struck the wall of the house, coating it in ice.

The voice paused, and then continued, now with a note of surprise. _"Wait… Jack? Is that you?"_

Frost's eyes widened, as he felt a jolt of recognition run through his mind. _Wait, what? Why does that name sound familiar?_

" _That_ is _you, isn't it?"_ The voice seemed astonished, with a note of amusement. _"I'll be damned. How on earth did you survive? I thought I'd finished you off for good last time. Erased your memories, stabbed you in the chest, and dumped you in a lake for good measure."_ A chuckle echoed through the shadows. _"I imagine you'd have appreciated the irony of my sentencing you to that particular fate if you still had your memories, but… ah, well. It doesn't seem to have lasted, in any case. But then, I'm not all that surprised; you always were a tough one."_

"What the hell are you talking about – _ah!_ " Frost gasped, clutching at his head as a spike of pain lanced through it. Images flashed through his mind.

_A pair of cold black eyes glaring into his own – a sudden burst of agony as a blade pierced his chest – the trees rushing past him as he plummeted to earth – a sudden, brutal impact, a thunderous splash, and a rush of cold water –_

He let out a cry of pain, falling to one knee under the onslaught of memories.

"Frost!" Mary Margaret exclaimed, hurrying to his side. "Are you all right?"

"I…" He shook his head, trying to get the images to focus, but they remained blurred and indistinct. "I… I think–"

" _Frost?"_ The cold voice laughed. _"Well, you remember that, at least. How sad. You were so powerful once, so brave, a worthy adversary. And now look at you, a lost child who can barely even remember his name. It's pitiful, really."_

Frost snarled, forcing himself back to his feet and firing another burst of magic towards the source of the voice. The blast froze several bushes and coated the side of a tree, but nothing else.

" _Ah, ah, ah,"_ the voice taunted. _"Not quick enough."_ Frost glimpsed another flicker of movement in the shadows – no, not _in_ the shadows; it was more like a shadow _itself_ had moved. _"You'll have to do better than that, Jack! Come on, you used to be_ good _at this!"_

Frost let out an angered yell, firing another blast and freezing the side of another house, but the voice only laughed. Staggering as the exertion of repeatedly using his magic began to wear on him, he leaned on his staff. "Show yourself!" he cried out defiantly.

" _Show myself?"_ The voice chuckled. _"Well… if you insist."_ With that, the shadows seemed to bend and twist, stretching inwards all around them, as if all the darkness in the area was flowing into one spot. With a burst of energy, the shadows swirled into a single point, and a humanoid figure materialized, now standing between Frost and the three crouching monsters.

He was a tall man, dressed in courtly finery; his clothing was black with gold trim, with a long black cloak. He was fairly handsome, but his appearance was somewhat unsettling: he had ghostly-pale skin and long, jet-black hair, and his eyes were entirely black, with no pupils or irises visible. He had a faint smirk on his face, as if he found everything terribly amusing, but there was a cruel gleam in his dark eyes.

Frost inhaled sharply. This close to the man, more and more images flashed through his mind. He _knew_ this man, he was sure of it.

"You…" he breathed.

The man smiled. "Yes, Jack. Me." His dark eyes flicked over Frost, Snow, and the huge wolf that loomed beside them. "Such interesting traveling companions you've acquired for yourself. I'll enjoy breaking them."

"All right, that's enough!" Snow snapped, training an arrow on the man's chest. "Who are you, and why are you doing this?"

The three creatures behind the man bristled, their jaws snapping, but he calmed them with a simple wave of his hand. "Easy, little ones," he murmured. "She can't harm me." He chuckled. "Do you like my new Nightmares, by the way, Jack? They're my latest batch; I've been able to improve upon them since the last time we met." He raised an eyebrow, tapping his chin in thought. "Though, now that I think about it, you probably can't remember last time."

"I _said_ ," Snow interrupted, steel in her voice, "who the hell are you?" She drew her arrow back a bit further, pulling the bowstring taut, as if emphasizing her point. At her side, Red snarled, baring her fangs as her golden eyes flashed in anger.

Frost rubbed at his temple, feeling another surge of pain as more snapshots of memory welled to the surface, but he struggled to put them aside, tightening his grip on his staff to steady himself. _Jack... I know that name. But from where?_

The man in shadows smirked. "Feisty one, isn't she? Well, let it never be said that I am not a gentleman." He bowed, sweeping his arms out with a flourish. "Greetings, my lady! My name is Pitch Black." He looked up, a sparkle of amusement in those cold eyes. "A pleasure to meet you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anybody expecting that? ;)
> 
> Before anybody asks: yes, I was always planning on bringing Pitch Black into this story. He's obviously going to be somewhat different from his incarnation in Rise of the Guardians, but since I adapted my version of Jack Frost from that movie, I figured I'd do the same with Pitch and give Jack/Jackson his own fairy-tale nemesis. And yes, there's a reason why Pitch already knows him, which will be explained in the next few chapters, although I hinted at it here.
> 
> Timeline-wise, the Storybrooke scenes in this chapter take place during "The Stable Boy". I didn't do too many of those scenes in this chapter, as most of them are specifically interactions between either Regina & Mary Margaret or Emma & August.
> 
> Next chapter, we learn more about the relationship between Pitch and Frost, and August tries to reach out to Jackson.


	12. Light and Shadow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In a flashback, Frost, Snow and Red face off against Pitch Black and discover some vital information about Frost's mysterious past. In the present, Jackson and Emma continue their investigation into the truth behind Kathryn's abduction; August reaches out to Jackson as part of his efforts to make Emma believe; and Jackson receives a phone call that will have lasting consequences.

_In the Enchanted Forest, many years ago…_

Frost felt a chill run through his entire body, a creeping sensation as if the hair on the back of his neck was standing up on end. _Pitch Black…_ He knew that name, he was certain of it, but for the life of him he could not remember from where.

" _Pitch Black_?" Snow spoke up, lacking his hesitance. "What kind of name is that?"

Pitch's smirk widened. "Well, it's not one that's particularly well-known, my lady. But I'm sure you've heard of my title in bedtime stories, if nothing else. Stories of a king with a crown of bones, leading an army of the damned as they ride skeleton horses through the night, stealing children's dreams as they sleep."

Snow stiffened, her eyes wide in horror. "The Nightmare King…" she breathed. "But… my mother always said that was just…"

"Just a story?" Pitch put in with a chuckle. "You would be surprised how many things we think are just stories, but are really the truth. Like Jack here." He smiled, indicating Frost. "Although, of course, he's not quite as famous as I am; he and his friends have always preferred to keep themselves out of the public eye, at least in this world."

"What are you talking about?" Frost demanded, stepping forward. Another twinge ran through his head, drawing a barely-concealed gasp of pain.

Pitch noticed it, of course. "Having trouble remembering, Jack?" he taunted. "Well, my apologies, but I can't have you regaining your memories, as that would make killing you more difficult." He smiled, spreading his arms as a gleaming black sword materialized in his outstretched right hand. "Well, it has been fun to see you again, old friend, but I believe our time is up. Little ones?" At his word, the three dark creatures rose to their feet, letting out a chorus of hisses as they moved to his side.

Pitch smiled, his dark eyes locking on Frost's. "Kill the others," he instructed calmly. "Leave him to me."

Red snarled, baring her teeth, while Snow readied her bow and Frost raised his staff in a defensive position.

The creatures let out identical screeches, their eyes and teeth flashing in the dark, and charged.

* * *

_In Storybrooke…_

Jackson followed Emma down the hospital hallway, towards the room where Kathryn was being cared for. They'd gotten a call from the hospital, informing them that she was awake, and Emma was eager to question her regarding her abduction.

"Emma, Jackson," Dr. Whale greeted them cheerfully as they entered Kathryn's room. "Come on in. Look who's awake!"

Sure enough, Kathryn was sitting up in bed; she nodded politely to Jackson, smiling at Emma.

"Kathryn, hi," Emma greeted her. "Listen, I don't want to take a lot of your time, but… do you remember what happened?"

The other woman considered for a moment, then shook her head. "I don't remember much. I know I was in a car accident, and I remember the airbag going off. But the next thing I knew, I was in the dark, in some basement. I didn't see anyone, but there was food and water down there, so I didn't go hungry. I was down there for a while, I don't know how long, and then…" She rubbed the bridge of her nose between her thumb and index finger. "I guess I was drugged."

"Yeah," Whale confirmed. "We're still trying to flush that out of your system."

Kathryn nodded. "And then I woke up in a field at the edge of town, and I started walking. That was it."

"You didn't see anyone?" Emma pressed. "You didn't hear a voice? Smell perfume or cologne? Anything?"

"Nothing, no." Kathryn sighed. "I'm sorry, I wish I could be more help. Especially since…" She groaned, leaning back in bed. "While I was gone, you guys really thought I was dead?"

Emma nodded ruefully. "Your DNA matched the heart we found."

"They're grilling everybody down at the hospital lab to find out who doctored the DNA results," Whale put in.

Kathryn stared wide-eyed at them. "Why would anyone do this?"

"We're pretty sure someone was trying to frame Mary Margaret for your murder," Jackson answered.

The other woman stared at him, aghast. "But why? I mean, who would do something like that?"

Emma and Jackson exchanged glances. Both of them were thinking the same thing, but neither of them was going to say it in public, at least until they had proof.

_Regina._

* * *

That night, Jackson found himself at Mary Margaret's apartment, along with Ruby, Emma, Henry, and numerous other citizens of Storybrooke. They'd all gathered for a welcome-home party to celebrate Mary Margaret's being proven innocent. Jackson still wasn't quite sure why he'd been invited, but he was never one to turn down a free evening at a party.

"All of these people…" Mary Margaret murmured to Jackson, Ruby and Emma, who had gathered on one side of the room. "Just to welcome me home?"

Emma smiled. "You've got a lot of friends."

Mary Margaret returned her smile, but it faded after a few moments, and she let out a sigh. "It didn't feel like that yesterday." She turned and walked off, going to pass out drinks to some new arrivals. Emma headed over to the bar to pour herself another one, leaving Jackson and Ruby alone.

As he sipped his drink, Jackson couldn't help noticing that Ruby seemed a little downcast. "Something wrong?" he inquired.

She sighed. "It's just… I feel bad for not believing Mary Margaret. About the whole David and Kathryn thing."

"Yeah, but pretty much nobody believed that," Jackson pointed out. "It's not like you were the only one; somebody did a damn good job of framing her."

"Emma believed her," Ruby pointed out. "Henry did. Hell, _you_ did, and you've only known her for what, two weeks?" She winced. "No offense."

"None taken," Jackson replied with a grin.

"But I've known Mary Margaret for a lot longer than that; we've been best friends for _years_." Ruby frowned. "But I didn't believe her. And I can't understand why."

"Hey." Jackson took her hand reassuringly, a surprisingly genuine smile flickering across his lips. "Listen, Ruby, don't beat yourself up over this, okay? It'll just make you feel worse."

Ruby exhaled slowly. "You're right," she admitted. "I still think I should apologize, though." She looked across after Mary Margaret. "But… I don't know what to say."

"Well, I'm not usually in the habit of apologizing to people," Jackson remarked with a chuckle. "But I'm pretty sure if you start with 'I'm sorry', the rest of it won't matter." He gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. "Go on."

Ruby nodded shakily, walking across the apartment. Jackson watched as she tapped Mary Margaret on the shoulder, exchanging a few hushed words, before the two embraced. Smiling, he leaned back against the wall, savoring his drink. _There we go._

* * *

Some time later, the party was starting to die down. Ruby and Mary Margaret were seated on one of the couches, chatting, while Jackson had been discussing the Kathryn case with Emma.

"So what's next?" He raised an eyebrow. "I'm not sure pinning Regina for this is gonna be easy, considering how much power she has in this town."

Emma considered. "We should start with Sidney. I don't know what she has on him, but I'm positive she's the one who ordered him to spy on us. If I can get him to crack, we'll be off to a good start." She checked the time on her phone, then stood up from the couch, rolling her shoulders and calling to Henry. "Hey, Henry, we should get you home before your mom finds out you were out late. That wouldn't be pretty."

Henry grinned, nodding, and hurried over to Emma. "Right." He waved to Jackson, before following Emma to the front door. Jackson glanced after them just as Henry opened the door… showing David Nolan on the other side, one hand raised to knock. He pulled back abruptly, clearly surprised. "…Oh," he managed. "Hey, Henry. You guys leaving already?"

"Yep," Henry replied. "Gotta get home and do homework."

Emma leaned in closer to David, lowering her voice so only he could hear it, although Jackson's own hearing could, of course, pick it up easily. "Look, she's kind of tired. I think it might be better if you just gave it some time."

David sighed, looking down. "I just… I wanted to tell her that…"

"Hey, Henry?" Emma cut him off, turning to her son. "Why don't you head home with David?"

He shrugged. "Okay!"

"Sorry," she murmured to David, patting him briefly on the shoulder.

David nodded slowly. "It's fine." He turned, beckoning to Henry, who followed him out of the apartment. Emma closed the door behind them, turning around and slumping against the wall, exhaling slowly as she rubbed at her eyes.

"Everything all right?" Jackson inquired as he approached her.

Emma nodded. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just figured she really wouldn't want to talk to him right now, after all the crap that she's been through."

"A thoughtful decision, Miss Swan," Mr. Gold remarked as he approached them. As he always did around this guy, Jackson felt uneasy as soon as the older man spoke. He still wasn't sure why, but something about Gold just rubbed him the wrong way.

Gold indicated the now-closed door. "Hard to let him go, isn't it?" he inquired. "Your son, I mean."

"Yeah," Emma admitted. "Pretty much the hardest thing." A moment later, she turned to face Gold. "Speaking of things we _weren't_ talking about… was it you?"

Gold raised an eyebrow. "Was what me?"

"Did you make Kathryn suddenly materialize?" Emma's eyes narrowed. "Because it sure played that way to me. Was that the 'magic' you were going to work?" She took a deliberate step forward, eyes flashing in anger. "Because if you kidnapped that poor, innocent woman, just to let her go –"

Gold smiled, as if he'd found that suggestion amusing. "I'm sorry, Miss Swan; are you suggesting I'm working _with_ Regina, or _against_ her?"

"I don't know," she shot back. "Maybe diagonally."

Gold chuckled. "Well, you keep working on that one, then. I have a question about something else, actually." He turned, pointing across the room; Jackson followed his extended index finger, and his eyes fell upon August, who was seated on the other side of the room, sipping a drink. "What do you know about him?"

Emma frowned. "Goes by August. He's a writer. Typewriter wrapped in an enigma, wrapped in stubble." She turned back to Gold. "Why?"

"Because he was poking around my shop today," Gold answered. His eyes narrowed, focusing on August. "August Wayne Booth. Clearly a false name."

"And how would you know, _Mr. Gold_?" Jackson retorted sardonically. _Come to think of it, does he even_ have _a first name?_

"I assure you, Mr. Whittemore," Gold replied calmly, "if there's one thing I know about, it's names." He glanced at Jackson as he said this, a sparkle of what seemed like amusement in his eyes.

"Writers go by pseudonyms," Emma put in. "What does it matter?"

Gold paused. "Do you trust him?"

"Yeah," she replied flatly. "A lot more than I trust you."

Jackson found himself glancing back over to August, remembering the strange look that the older man had given him outside the inn on the day when they'd found Kathryn. For some reason, he kept thinking about it; the expression the writer had given him had been very strange. It was almost like…

_Like he knew me._ Jackson's lip curled in a frown. _But that doesn't make any sense; I've never met the guy before._

Now that he thought about it, though, there was something oddly familiar about the way August had looked at him; it was like he'd gotten the same look from someone else before. But for the life of him, he couldn't remember where.

* * *

_In the Enchanted Forest…_

The three creatures sprang, vicious snarls filling the air as they charged. Two of them leaped at Red, who was clearly the most dangerous of their three targets. She snarled in response, surging forward and tackling one of them out of the air, as the other landed on her back.

The third creature went for Snow, who ducked back, loosing her arrow. The shaft embedded itself in the creature's shoulder, but it barely broke stride, forcing her to dive out of the way. Notching another arrow, she fired as the creature turned, but this time her aim was off-target and the arrow missed. Cursing, she bolted towards the nearest house, while the creature darted after her with its jaws agape.

Frost, meanwhile, had his own problems. Pitch came at him like a whirlwind, slashing and jabbing with his black-bladed sword. Frost's staff was a blur as he blocked and parried, moving faster than he'd thought he could, but the Nightmare King was faster still, and it was everything he could do to avoid taking a fatal blow. One particularly well-aimed slash took a nick out of his pants, barely missing his upper leg; he whipped his staff up just in time to block Pitch's next swing, stopping the sword inches from his neck.

"Come on, Jack!" Pitch mocked, pushing inward, trying to break Frost's guard. "Fighting you used to be fun; where's that _spirit_ I remember?!"

Frost let out a yell, releasing his staff with one hand and firing a blast of ice directly into Pitch's face, but the dark man recoiled with the same inhuman speed, bringing up an arm to shield his face. Pitch hissed in discomfort as the ice coated his forearm instead, but he waved his other hand and black smoke enveloped his frost-coated limb, dissipating moments later and evaporating the ice. "That's more like it," he remarked with a chuckle, stretching his arm. "But you'll have to do better."

Frost growled, spinning his staff, and launched himself back at the dark man. Wood clashed with gleaming dark metal again and again. Frost was amazed that the staff didn't break or even chip from clashing with Pitch's sword; whatever type of wood it was made from, it was certainly durable. Whenever Frost had an opening, he let fly with a burst of ice, but Pitch was expecting it now, and he was fast enough to evade Frost's attacks.

_Damn it!_ Frost cursed inwardly, after another unsuccessful attack. _I'd have to actually grab hold of him for my powers to work… but the way this is going, I'd never get close enough._ He retreated, blocking several rapid slashes. _But at this rate, he'll cut me to pieces anyway!_

A shriek cut through the melee, and Frost glanced over to see Red and the other two creatures locked together in a clinch. Red had grabbed the first creature by the scruff of its neck and was refusing to let go, shaking it back and forth like a dog shaking a rat, despite the fact that it was raking its claws repeatedly across her head and shoulder. The second creature, having been tossed off her back, had just lunged back in, sinking its teeth into her left hind leg and biting down with all of its strength, its fangs sinking deep into her leg. Red let out a muffled howl of pain, but she refused to relent. Bearing down with all of her strength, she crushed the creature's windpipe and snapped its neck. Tossing its body away as it went limp and crumbled into black sand, she whirled on the second, shaking it off her leg. She let out a low, vicious snarl, before launching herself forward with all her remaining strength. She was larger and heavier than the creature, which worked to her advantage; the impact bowled it over, sending both of them tumbling away into the bushes in a burst of snarls and crashing brush.

"Don't turn your back on me!" came Pitch's hiss from behind. Frost's eyes widened in horror and he flung himself sideways, hearing the whistle as the dark sword whipped past him. The tip of the blade nicked the flesh of his neck, opening a shallow cut; he had avoided decapitation by a matter of inches. He whirled back to face Pitch, swinging his staff in an arc to clear some space between them, and followed it up with a blast of ice from his other hand. Before it could connect, however, Pitch's free hand snapped up, and he backhanded the icy blast aside with a burst of dark smoke. The combined explosion of magic enveloped a nearby tree trunk in black ice, but Pitch remained untouched.

Pitch smirked, lazily twirling his sword with one hand as a ball of concentrated dark flame materialized in his hand. "Let's see how you do against some of my old tricks, shall we?" he called out, tossing the fireball at Frost. Instinctively, Frost shoved his hand out, manifesting an opposing burst of ice. The two attacks collided midway between them and canceled out harmlessly in an explosion of steam. However, this had the unfortunate side effect of obscuring Frost's view of his enemy.

"Damn it!" he cursed. Swiping his hand through the air, he generated a burst of cold air that dissipated the steam, but Pitch had vanished. "Oh, not this again," he muttered, looking around warily.

" _What's wrong, Jack?"_ the Nightmare King's voice echoed through the clearing, with a distinct note of amusement. _"You used to_ love _this one."_

"Where the hell are you?!" Frost yelled. He caught a glimpse of a tall shadow gliding across a nearby tree and launched an icicle, but it embedded itself harmlessly in the tree trunk without hitting its target.

The only reply was Pitch's mocking laughter.

* * *

_In Storybrooke…_

Jackson was leaning against the wall outside Granny's, idly checking his phone as he waited for Emma. While he hadn't checked in with any of his friends in Beacon Hills since before leaving London, he did keep up on news feeds from back home, his way of keeping tabs on how things were going back home. Usually nothing out of the ordinary was happening, but this time he'd stumbled across something that caught his attention: a news article from several weeks earlier, which had escaped his notice until now.

_**Local Teacher Injured in Archery Accident!** _

_Robert "Bobby" Finstock, a teacher and lacrosse coach at Beacon Hills High School, was admitted to Beacon Memorial Hospital today after sustaining a serious injury during a cross-country practice run. Investigators believe that, as he and his students were running along the course, Finstock accidentally triggered a trap left behind by a deer hunter, which shot an arrow into his abdomen. Fortunately, none of Finstock's internal organs were pierced; he required only minor surgery, and is expected to make a full recovery. The identity of the individual or individuals who set the trap remains unknown._

Jackson raised an eyebrow as he scrolled through the article. _How about that?_ he observed with a wry grin. _Figures Coach would get shot sooner or later, but I didn't think it would be an accident._

As he scrolled down to the bottom of the page, however, the title of another, more recent article caught his interest. _Violent attacks throughout Beacon Hills, committed by multiple assailants dressed in black cloaks and carrying swords… possibly gang warfare or terrorism?_ He frowned, scrolling down and tapping on the article's heading. _That's weird._

"Hey, Jackson!" Emma's voice cut through his focus on the phone as she climbed out of her car. She nodded towards the entrance of the diner. "He still in there?"

"Yep," Jackson replied, exiting out of the news site and pocketing his phone; he'd worry about that odd news report later. "Been there for half an hour, just nursing his drink." He grinned. "Ready to put him through the ringer?"

"Absolutely," Emma muttered. Without hesitation, she marched up the front steps and pushed open the door of the diner. Jackson followed, the two of them making a beeline for the corner table, where Sidney Glass was finishing off a mug of coffee. Bleary-eyed, he looked up as Emma sat down opposite him.

"Hey, Sidney," Emma greeted the reporter briskly.

"Emma, hey," Sidney replied with a friendly smile. He glanced up as Jackson leaned against the divider between booths, conveniently blocking the reporter's exit. "Ah… Mr. Whittemore."

"Mr. Glass," Jackson returned evenly, not really trying to keep his dislike of the reporter out of his voice.

Sidney nodded, somewhat nervously, as he turned back to Emma. "So, things certainly did work out, didn't they? For, ah… for your friend?"

"You told me you could help me with Mary Margaret." Emma's voice was flat. "And I wanted to believe you. But, eventually, there are things that even a blind Sheriff cannot ignore." She drew out the wiretapping device that they'd found in the flowerpot at the Sheriff's station and placed it on the table between them.

Sidney's eyes widened, almost imperceptibly, but enough that Jackson could easily realize he'd been caught off-guard. "Is…" He swallowed. "Is that a bug?"

"Oh, for God's sake, cut the crap, Sidney!" Emma snapped. "You fooled me, you spied on us, and you reported it all back to that sick, crazy woman. I can't even imagine what she has on you, but it must be something _huge_."

"She's a good mayor," Sidney argued.

"She tried to get Mary Margaret convicted of a murder that _didn't even happen_ ," Emma spat. "You're in a lot of trouble, Sidney. Both of you are. Because there is a DNA trail in the basement of some house out there, and I'm going to find it. And then she's going to go away."

Sidney sighed. "Maybe." He smiled faintly. "But I wouldn't bet against her. She's an amazing woman."

Jackson and Emma exchanged a glance, realization dawning in both their minds.

"Are you…" Emma's eyes widened in disbelief. "Are you _in love_ with her?!"

Jackson scoffed. "Dude, that is seriously messed up. Even _I_ wouldn't go there in a million years."

Emma waved him off. "Look… whatever. Here's the thing." She leaned forward, focusing a laser-like glare on Sidney. "Before you know it, I _will_ have that evidence. So you need to think long and hard about this. You can either help me, and help yourself… or you're going to go down with her." With that, she stood up, snatching the bug off the table, and swept out of the room. Jackson followed her, shooting a last disdainful glance at the reporter.

"So what's next, boss?" Jackson inquired as he and Emma exited the diner.

"Next, we keep building the case against Regina," Emma answered. "Won't be easy, but I think finding out the truth about the DNA results from that heart, and who altered them, is a good place to start."

"Good idea." Jackson nodded. "Problem is, we need to find something _specifically_ linked to Regina. I mean, obviously she told Glass to bug the sheriff's station, and had someone at the hospital fake those DNA results, but unless we can prove that whoever did it was acting on her orders, there's nothing we can do to her."

"Exactly." Emma sighed wearily. "I'll head back to the station, see if I can dig up anything else."

"Right. Let me know if you need any help. Otherwise, I'll be at the inn; I'm having dinner with Ruby later, so I'd better look my best." Jackson grinned, brushing a stray strand of hair back into place.

Emma smirked. "Right. Have fun, Romeo. But not too much; I need you at the station first thing tomorrow." With that, she turned and headed back to her car.

Tossing off a leisurely salute after her departing form, Jackson started back towards the inn. Halfway across the parking lot, however, he felt something catch his attention, and he turned to see August on the other side of the street, standing beside his motorcycle and staring straight back at him with an unreadable expression. Before Jackson could take more than a step towards him, however, the writer straddled his bike, lifted the kickstand, and revved the engine, roaring off down the street.

"The hell is that guy's problem?" Jackson muttered. Shrugging it off, he strolled back towards the inn.

* * *

_In the Enchanted Forest…_

Snow panted for breath, her heart pounding as she raced down a path between two houses, hearing the growls of the pursuing monster as it came pounding down the path after her. Her eyes flicked from side to side, attempting to find something, anything, that could get her out of reach of those murderous teeth.

Finally, as she rounded the corner of one house, she spotted a wooden ladder that had been leaned against the house, likely left there by someone who'd already been attacked by the creatures. Snow immediately took advantage of the opportunity, jumping onto the ladder and scrambling up it. She hauled herself up onto the roof, kicking away the ladder with a swing of her leg to leave no way for the creature to follow her.

Sure enough, the creature bounded around the same corner, letting out a low hiss when it spotted her on the roof. It prowled closer, pacing back and forth beneath her perch, its luminous orange eyes flashing in the darkness. Then, to her surprise, it backed away a few steps and shuddered, its body trembling. It flung its head back, letting out a screech, and reared back on its hind legs. Twin jets of what looked like black sand erupted from its back, swirling and expanding, until they coalesced into a pair of wings, leathery-skinned like those of a bat.

Snow's eyes widened in horror. "Oh, no," she breathed.

The creature didn't wait for her to react; it crouched and leaped into the air, its wings unfolding and blotting out the moon overhead as it loomed over the roof where she lay.

Fortunately, since Snow had already been holding her bow, she was prepared. Leaning back, she released the arrow without bothering to aim. Sure enough, the arrow buried itself in the creature's chest. It shrieked, falling onto the roof; Snow rolled to one side, barely avoiding being crushed. The creature thrashed and flailed, flipping over onto its back as it spasmed, and Snow seized her chance. Drawing her knife, she lunged in close and drove the knife hilt-deep into the creature's throat. Black, oily blood spurted from the wound, and the creature let out a strangled, gurgling screech. Its head fell back, the orange glow faded from its eyes, and it disintegrated into a pile of black sand.

Gasping for air, Snow clambered down, sliding down over the eaves of the house and dropping carefully to the ground. She landed hard, but rolled with the impact and clambered back to her feet, before running back towards where the others had been fighting.

* * *

_In Storybrooke…_

"So where do we go from here?" Jackson inquired as he followed Emma into the sheriff's station. "Any ideas on how we bust Regina?"

"I've been thinking about that," Emma replied. "I'd rather not ask Gold for anything else if I can help it, so I figure we'll go to the hospital first and see if we can figure out who falsified the DNA results. That'll take us one step closer to…" She trailed off as she opened the door to the main part of the Sheriff's station, coming to an abrupt halt. "Regina."

Sure enough, the Mayor of Storybrooke was standing in their office, leaning against the desk with her arms folded. "Congratulations, Sheriff Swan," she remarked with a nod to Emma and Jackson as they entered. "There's about to be a big break in your case; you've gotten yourself a confession."

Jackson raised an eyebrow. "Really," he deadpanned.

"Yes, Mr. Whittemore," Regina replied matter-of-factly. "But I'd like the two of you to listen to the whole explanation, so you can understand why this happened."

"Oh, I'll hang on every word you say," Emma retorted.

"Very well, then." Regina glanced over her shoulder, back towards the side office. "Sidney?" she called. "You can come in now."

Sure enough, the journalist entered the room, glancing nervously at Emma and Jackson.

"Tell them what you told me," Regina instructed.

Sidney nodded slowly. "It was me," he said quietly. "I confess. I abducted Kathryn, and I hid her in the basement of an abandoned summer home by the lake. I bribed a lab tech to get me the heart from the hospital, and I used that same person to doctor the lab results."

"And the other thing?" Regina prompted.

Sidney swallowed. "I… I borrowed some skeleton keys from Regina and… planted the knife in your apartment."

" _My_ keys." Regina folded her arms, shooting a scornful glance at the journalist. "Can't help but feel personally violated by that part."

Jackson rolled his eyes. He didn't even need to have werewolf senses to tell that Sidney was lying his ass off, and a glance at Emma was all it took to know that she could tell just as well as he could.

"And I'm supposed to believe this… why, exactly?" Emma inquired, mirroring Jackson's thoughts.

"I was going to find her after the conviction; be a hero." Sidney let out a sigh. "Then I'd get the inside track on the biggest story to ever hit this town. I'd get my job back, plus a novel, maybe a movie, and…" He lowered his head. "I don't know. It sounds crazy now."

"Pretty crazy, yeah," Emma remarked. "But false? Yeah. False as hell."

"I have maps to where the house is," Sidney continued. "You'll find chains in the basement. Lots of fingerprints, I'm sure – hers and mine. But I didn't hurt her."

"The man has obviously suffered some kind of mental breakdown," Regina added. "He clearly hasn't been himself for a while."

"That's true," Emma retorted sardonically. "It's almost like his words aren't _his_ at all."

Regina rolled her eyes. "Wow. You are so sold on your own rush to judgment that you can't even see the truth anymore, can you?"

"A word in the hallway, please?" Emma snapped, fixing a glare on Regina. She glanced to Jackson, who nodded subtly, showing that he agreed with her thought process, before leading Regina out of the office. Jackson immediately strained his ears to detect what they were saying, as he had no intention of being left out of the loop.

" _Well, that's the biggest load of crap I've ever heard,"_ Emma spat.

" _I'm pretty sure that's not true,"_ Regina replied coolly.

Emma sighed. _"That poor man,"_ she said, almost sadly, before her voice hardened. _"I know you're behind all this. Kathryn's abduction, the faked murder, Mary Margaret's biased treatment, Sidney's 'confession', all of it. And I understand that you own this game, and that you've set the board so that no one else can win."_ She paused. _"Which is why I'm about to start playing a whole different game. I don't care what happens to you, or to me. All I care about is what happens to my kid. And from now on, you are going to leave him alone."_

Regina was silent for a moment; maybe Emma had actually caught her off guard with that one. _"Am I?"_ she said quietly.

" _Uh-uh, I'm talking,"_ Emma spat. _"You're a sociopath, lady. You tried to take away someone that I love. And now I'm going to return the favor."_ Her voice was flat; it was a statement of fact, not an empty threat. _"I am taking back my son."_

Jackson was surprised for a moment. Then his lip curled in a smirk. _Not bad, Emma. Not bad at all._

* * *

_In the Enchanted Forest…_

Frost stood in the center of the clearing, his eyes flicking around as he tried to find some trace of Pitch. "Come out and face me, you coward!" he yelled, twirling his staff. He could still hear the snarls and crashes in the brush from where Red was fighting the last creature. Making an abrupt decision, he started towards the source of the noises; if Pitch wasn't going to show himself, he might as well go help the others.

It was at that precise moment, as he turned to run for the trees, that the attack came. Frost felt a whisper of wind approaching on his right, and turned his head just in time to see the black sword materialize out of the shadows, swinging for his unprotected side as Pitch blurred back into existence in mid-strike.

With no time to respond, Frost flicked his staff up in a desperate block. It was just enough to avoid being cut in half, but the blade still sliced across his side, cutting through his jacket and into flesh with a sickening jolt of agony. Frost screamed in pain, tumbling to the ground as his entire right side exploded in pain.

Pitch laughed, flourishing his sword as he examined the blood staining the gleaming dark blade. "So sad," he mocked, smirking cruelly as he stood over Frost. "You used to be an interesting opponent, and now look at you."

"Damn… you…" Frost breathed, clutching at the gash on his side. He was feeling light-headed, and an alarming amount of blood was already soaking into his shirt.

"Frost!" a familiar voice screamed; he lifted his head to see Snow sprinting out of the village. Her eyes widened in horror when she saw him on the ground, and she notched an arrow, firing it straight at Pitch. Before it could hit, however, Pitch whipped around, his free hand snaking up and snatching the arrow out of the air, catching it inches from his face. He smirked, tossing the arrow away over his shoulder, but it had given Snow enough time to reach Frost.

A moment later, a snarl echoed through the trees, and Red emerged from the bushes. She had clearly won the fight, but she was limping badly on her left hind leg, and there was blood – both red and black – matted in her fur.

Despite the fact that all three of his creatures had fallen, Pitch seemed totally unworried. He chuckled softly, holding his sword casually at his side. "Well, this has been fun, but I'm afraid we're out of time." He raised his free hand to the sky and clenched his fist, sending out a pulse of dark energy that rippled through the air. " _Come to me, my pets,_ " he murmured, his voice carrying the strange, echoing quality from before. " _It's time to end this._ "

And they came. Dozens of the creatures, the rest of the swarm that had attacked the village, materialized around them. Some swooped down from overhead on their batlike wings, landing on the roofs of houses or perching on tree branches, while others emerged from the shadows, slinking forward with eyes glowing and fangs bared. Within seconds, Frost, Snow and Red were completely surrounded.

"Frost?" Snow breathed, trembling. "What do we do?"

Fighting against the waves of sickening pain, Frost forced himself to stand back up, leaning on his staff while he pressed one hand against his wound.

"Don't worry, Jack." Pitch called, his dark eyes alight with amusement. "I'll be sure to tell your friends that you died well."

Frost blinked, looking up in confusion. "What?" he asked. "My… my friends? What are you talking about?"

Pitch's only reply was a cold smirk. "Kill them," he ordered.

The creatures surged forward, a chorus of snarls filling the air… but before they could reach the trio, something odd happened. There was a brilliant flash of light, and a cloud of glowing blue smoke swirled up around Frost, Snow, and Red, enveloping them within seconds.

Pitch's face twisted in anger. "No!" he roared.

And then it felt as if a trapdoor had swung open beneath Frost, and the world dropped away as he fell into darkness.

* * *

_In Storybrooke…_

Jackson sat in his room at the inn, gazing out the window as he contemplated recent events. While Sidney was taking the fall for Kathryn's abduction, as it was likely that he had actually been the one to carry out the crime (albeit under Regina's orders), the mayor herself had once again avoided being charged. Emma's unexpected change of plans, however, should make things much more interesting going forward.

As he leaned back in the chair and closed his eyes, three soft knocks echoed through the room. Jackson sighed, sitting up and walking over to the door. "All right, who the hell is it this time?" he muttered, opening the door. He was taken off-guard, however, to see August standing outside, holding a large book.

"Uh… hi?" Jackson spoke up in confusion. "What're you doing here?"

"Looking for you," August replied. "We need to talk." He looked past Jackson, verifying that the room was empty. "Ah… can I come in?"

Jackson raised an eyebrow. "…Sure." He stepped back, letting the writer duck inside, and closed the door behind him. He wasn't particularly worried, as there was very little August could do to him, so he might as well listen to what he had to say. At the very least, he might be able to get some answers as to why the guy had been acting so weird.

As soon as the door was closed, August rounded on Jackson. "Where the hell have you been, Jack?!" he demanded. "You said you'd be waiting for us when we first got here, but you never showed up! I spent _years_ looking for you, hoping you could help me locate Emma, but I could never find you!"

Jackson frowned, taken aback. "Okay, first of all, my name's _Jackson_ , not Jack. And secondly, what the hell are you talking about? I'm not exactly unaccustomed to pissing people off, but I don't think I've ever done anything to you."

August was brought up short, looking at Jackson in a puzzled manner. Then he seemed to realize something, and he clapped a hand to his forehead. "Oh, that's right, you wouldn't recognize me. After all, I was only a kid the last time you saw me, although that _was_ twenty-eight years ago. You should remember, though; you babysat me sometimes while my dad was building the wardrobe for Snow and Charming. You know, little boy, about this tall –" he indicated a short distance from the floor "– used to wear a red hat all the time?" He grinned conspiratorially. "It's okay. I know who you really are – I mean, come on, you look exactly the same – so you don't have to keep up the disguise with me."

At this point, it was quickly becoming clear to Jackson that there was something seriously wrong with this guy. _I should tell Emma_ , he decided. If August was really this unstable, she would probably have a better idea of what to do with him.

"Look, man…" He sighed. "I've had a long day, and I really don't have the patience for whatever _this_ is right now. Whatever you're selling, I'm not buying. So can you just go, please?"

"I…" For a moment, August looked even more confused than he had before. Then, slowly, a look of dawning horror began to creep across his face. "You seriously don't know who I am?"

"Should I?" Jackson returned. "But to make it clear: no, I have no idea who you are. Before Emma introduced us a few days ago, I had never seen or heard of you before in my life."

The writer ran a hand over his face. "Okay, look, this is going to sound weird, but… what's your name? Your full name?"

Jackson frowned. "O…kay, I'll humor you. My name's Jackson Whittemore. I'm from California, recently moved to London, and then to here."

"But…" August stopped short, sighing. "Ah, damn it, you're cursed too." He paused, then looked at Jackson in confusion. "Wait… this doesn't make any sense! You left our realm _before_ the curse hit, said you were coming here to wait for us on this side. When I saw you with Emma outside Granny's, I assumed you'd finally found us and that you were going to help her believe. But how… how are you cursed too? Were you still on our side when it hit?"

The situation wasn't becoming any clearer for Jackson. One recurring element of August's confused rambling, however, did remind him of something. "Cursed?" he questioned skeptically. "You mean, like that evil magic curse that Emma's kid Henry keeps talking about?"

"Right!" August nodded. "So you know about it?"

"Know about it? The kid never shuts up about those damn stories of his; of course I know." Jackson raised an eyebrow. "Hang on… don't tell me you actually _believe_ that crap? That all the people in this town are really fairy-tale characters from some magical world?"

August sighed. "Yes, I do. Because they are."

"Bullshit," Jackson retorted. "I've seen and heard of a lot of weird things in my life, but other worlds? Fairy tales come to life? _Magic?_ " He shook his head. "Not a chance." Turning his back on August, he walked back over to the table, where he'd left his phone. "Now, if you don't mind, I have some business to take care of." _Like calling Emma so she can lock your crazy ass up,_ he thought.

"Look, will you just listen to me for a second?" August pressed. "It's important! Emma hasn't started believing yet, and I don't have much time left! I need your help, Jack –"

"Oh, for God's sake, _my name is not Jack!_ " Jackson yelled, whirling on August with a momentary surge of anger that would have had him sprouting claws and fangs if it had been any worse. "Why do people in this damn town keep acting like this?!"

August flinched, clearly taken aback. "Like what?"

" _Like you already know me!_ " Jackson snapped. "Because you don't, none of you do, and it's starting to get _really_ –"

And then he stopped, realizing what he'd just said. _Wait… what?_

That was when a sudden spike of pain drove its way into his mind, and he gasped, doubling over and clutching at the sides of his head, as images flooded into his brain.

* * *

_Mr. Gold's eyes widened as Jackson turned around, as if he was extremely surprised to see him, but he regained his composure almost immediately. "And who might you be?"_

* * *

" _Just out of curiosity… do you think_ I'm _a character from one of those fairy tales?"_

_Henry shook his head. "No; if you were, you would have already been living in Storybrooke." His eyes narrowed. "Although, you_ do _look familiar, now that I'm thinking about it…"_

* * *

" _And who is this?" Regina asked. As Henry hopped down from the stool, giving her a clear view of Jackson, her eyes widened in shock for a split second, before returning to her previous calm appearance…_

* * *

" _Hey!" Jackson yelled, drawing Jefferson's attention._

_The other man turned, a confused expression appearing as he stared wide-eyed at Jackson. "Jack?" he asked, frowning…_

* * *

" _I don't think we've met, by the way. I'm August."_

" _Jackson." He looked up and shook August's hand, noting a sudden flash of surprise in the man's eyes, mixed with something that almost looked like… recognition?_

* * *

"Jackson!" August called, grasping him by the shoulder and snapping him out of the sudden flash of pain. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Jackson snapped, shaking the older man's hand off. Turning away from August, he rested a hand on the wall and glared out the window at the darkened treeline. His hands were trembling, and there was a dull, throbbing pain in his head.

"No, you're not." August's voice was quiet, but there was a note of something like triumph. "You're starting to remember, aren't you?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Jackson muttered, rubbing his temples to try and ease the headache.

"No, you don't," August admitted. "But you will, soon." He set the book he'd been carrying down on the bed. "Look, will you get that back to Henry for me? He let me borrow it for a while, but I think it might do more good with you. If you're really not from Storybrooke like everyone else here, then the curse might have affected you differently. So reading this might help you."

"Wait, what?" Jackson turned, seeing that the book was, indeed, Henry's _Once Upon a Time_ book of fairy tales, the thing that had probably inspired the kid's interest in this curse theory of his. "And what exactly am I supposed to do with that?"

"Read it," August advised, as he headed for the door. "Look for your story. It might help you remember." He looked back as he opened the door, flashing Jackson a wry grin. "And it's not a bad read anyway." With that, he exited the room, closing the door behind him.

Jackson was left staring after him for a long moment. "What the _hell_ was all that about?" he muttered.

* * *

_In the Enchanted Forest…_

When Frost opened his eyes, he was pleasantly surprised to find that he wasn't dead. Instead, he was lying sprawled on the ground, staring up at the moonlit night sky. Snow and Red, still in wolf form, were lying on either side of him. As he sat up, he realized that they were no longer in the forest clearing where they'd been moments before; instead, the three of them were in an open, grassy meadow. Pitch, the army of monsters, and the village were nowhere to be seen.

"Frost?" Snow murmured, standing up and looking around warily. "What just happened?"

"I have no idea," Frost muttered. He winced as he felt another throbbing surge of pain in his side, and sank back to the ground. "Red?" he asked, looking over at the wolf. "Are you all right?"

Red let out a weak growl, her head low. She had remained lying down, unable to put weight on her injured hind leg.

" _Snow?_ " a soft female voice spoke up, as a flare of softly-glowing blue light appeared overhead. " _Are you hurt, child?_ "

Snow's eyes widened. "I know that voice!" she exclaimed.

A small figure descended from overhead; a tiny woman, only the size of a small bird. She wore a sparkling blue dress, carried a small wand in one hand, and had a set of insect-like wings that fluttered behind her.

"The Blue Fairy," Snow murmured with a smile. "It's so good to see you!"

"Yes, my dear," the fairy replied with a smile. "It's good to see you too, Snow." She looked to Frost and Red, and her eyes widened in sympathy. "Here, let me tend to your injuries." She waved her wand in an arc, and Frost felt a wave of warmth run through his body. The pain of his injuries, particularly the cut on his neck and the gash on his side, melted away, and he pulled up his shirt to see that the deep cut on his side had healed completely.

"Thank you," Frost breathed, rubbing the now-smooth skin of his stomach wonderingly. He hopped to his feet and looked over at Red to see that her injuries had similarly healed, as she could now stand up properly.

"I also retrieved this from where your friend left it," the fairy added. She waved her wand again, and Red's cloak and hood materialized in a puff of blue smoke. "I assumed she would have need of it."

"Thank you!" Frost snatched up the cloak and swung it over Red, watching as the wolf form melted away in a flash of red light; moments later, she sat up, human again. "Are you okay?" he asked anxiously, crouching down next to her.

"I'm fine," Red replied with a smile. She shivered. "What _was_ that thing?"

"I…" Frost sighed. "I don't know. But it was like he knew me, somehow." _He kept calling me… Jack, was it?_

"Pitch Black," the Blue Fairy intoned quietly. "An ancient demon, and one that has grown stronger of late. He and his Nightmares prey on the dreams of mortals, spreading fear throughout the world to increase their own power." She turned to Frost, a puzzled frown forming. "But I am not sure why he would be so interested in you."

"Well…" Frost considered. "He said _he_ was the one who took my memories away. And ever since I saw him, I've been getting these flashes: images, sensations." He rubbed his temples. "Damn it, I wish I could remember!"

"Your memories?" the Blue Fairy inquired. "That's odd; I haven't heard of Pitch doing something like that before."

Snow spoke up. "Blue, is there anything you could do to help Frost? Could you help him get his memories back?"

"I'm not sure, but I can certainly try," the fairy replied with a smile. "Come here, child. Let me see what I can do to help." She beckoned to Frost, who stepped reluctantly forward, and circled her wand above his head. The wand emitted a soft blue glow, and she gently tapped it against the top of his head.

"Ah!" Frost gasped in pain as a sudden flash of light emanated from the point of contact, and he stumbled backwards, rubbing his head.

The Blue Fairy nodded. "Well, fortunately, Pitch did not actually _remove_ your memories; they're still there, but the spell he cast on you has created a mental block that has suppressed them." Inclining her head, she sighed. "But, as I feared, I cannot retrieve them myself. While I do have strong magic, the spell that Pitch used to suppress your memories was a dark and potent one, and it is beyond my power to break it." She considered for a moment, turning her wand over in her hands, before a thought came to her. "However, I _do_ know someone who has much more skill and experience with this sort of thing than I do. Perhaps she could help you."

"Who?" Frost asked eagerly. Who it was didn't really matter to him, as long as they could really help get his memories back. Considering what Pitch had said about his past, and the link between them, remembering who he really was had become of great importance to him.

"Lady Toothiana, an ancient and powerful fairy," Blue explained. "She has tremendously strong magic, so much so that it's said she can cross the boundaries between worlds through her own power alone. And she's supposedly an expert on reading and manipulating people's memories, so I'm certain she can break through the mental block Pitch has placed upon you."

Frost nodded. "All right, then. Can you take us to her?"

"Of course!" Blue smiled. "I would be happy to. But I think the three of you should get some rest first, as I'm sure you're all tired."

"She's not wrong," Snow spoke up with a weary smile. "I feel like I could sleep for a week."

"Stay here and rest for the day," Blue advised them. "At sunset tomorrow, I will return, and we can set off for Toothiana's home."

"Sounds good to me." Frost smiled. "Thank you for helping us."

"It's the least I can do." Blue smiled. "I'll see you all soon. Get some rest; you may need it." With that, she took off again, her wings whirring as she flew up and away, vanishing into the darkened sky with a final flicker of blue light.

* * *

_In Storybrooke…_

The pain in Jackson's head had eventually faded away; a cold drink of water had helped with that. Now he was sitting in bed, looking up at the ceiling. He wanted to sleep, but his mind refused to shut down, turning everything August had said over and over.

After about twenty minutes of this, Jackson had had enough. "Oh, screw it," he muttered. "I might as well take a look at the damn thing and see what all the fuss is about." Sitting up, he hopped off the bed and retrieved Henry's book from where he'd left it on the table, before returning to bed. Leaning back against the pillows, he opened the book and started reading.

"'Once upon a time…'" He snorted. "God, that's such a cliché."

Over the next two hours, Jackson read through some of the many stories contained within the book. He read through the tales of Snow White and Prince Charming; of Cinderella and the Evil Queen (who, he had to admit, did strongly remind him of Regina); of Pinocchio (which, oddly, seemed to be missing the ending of the story); of Belle and the Mad Hatter; and of the magical trickster Rumplestiltskin (who seemed to keep popping up in story after story).

"Well, these are definitely more entertaining than the Disney movies," Jackson remarked dryly as he finished yet another chapter, "but this is getting really…" He trailed off, examining the next story's title with interest. "…complicated," he murmured.

In swirling cursive letters, the title read: _Jack Frost, the Spirit of Winter._

"Huh." Mildly intrigued, Jackson turned the page… and froze, staring wide-eyed at the book. His heart was pounding, and he felt another prickling sensation of pain in his head, but he couldn't take his eyes off the page. Because what he saw there wasn't possible.

The next page featured a full-color illustration of the chapter's title character, Jack Frost. The guy didn't look particularly remarkable: a rather handsome young man dressed in a light blue shirt, a brown jacket and brown pants, carrying a wooden staff that was curved at one end like a cane. His other hand was held out, palm-up, with a flurry of snowflakes emerging from his glowing palm. But that wasn't the part that had captured Jackson's attention.

It was the fact that the man in the book had his face.

There was no mistaking it. This wasn't just a similar hairstyle, nose, or facial expression. The man in the illustration looked _exactly_ like Jackson; the same prominent cheekbones, the same confident smirk, the same spiked-up hairstyle, and the same bright blue eyes. The only difference Jackson could see was that the guy in the illustration had pure-white hair, the same color as snow, while Jackson's own hair was a darker shade of blonde. Other than that, they could have been twins.

"What the _hell?_ " Jackson breathed, brushing his fingers over the drawing. He could hardly believe what he was seeing, but there it was, right before his eyes.

And now that he thought about it, flipping through the book again and looking at the characters in the illustrations with new eyes, he realized that a lot of them did, in fact, bear a remarkable resemblance to real, living people that he had met in Storybrooke. Snow White looked very much like Mary Margaret, although the woman in the storybook dressed very differently and had much longer hair. Prince Charming, once one looked past all of the fancy outfits he wore, looked a _lot_ like David Nolan. Little Red Riding Hood and Cinderella were near-perfect matches for Ruby and her friend Ashley. And the Evil Queen did, in fact, closely resemble Regina.

_How did I not notice this before now?!_ Jackson was aware that he was gawking at the book like an idiot, but he couldn't help it. Did this mean… No, it couldn't be possible, right? But he couldn't help thinking about something else: the way in which he had arrived in Storybrooke in the first place. The way he'd suddenly decided to leave London, choosing to explore this seemingly-random part of the northeastern United States instead of heading back home to Beacon Hills, stumbling across this town when the only other people who'd done so in recent memory – Emma and August – were both seemingly involved with the town itself… it seemed to be almost _too_ lucky to be a coincidence.

Was Henry's crazy story – a magical curse, affecting all the residents of Storybrooke – actually _true?_

At that moment, just as Jackson was trying to figure out what to do about this, the sharp chime of his cell phone's ringtone echoed through the room. Shaking off the daze that had gripped him, he snatched his phone off the bedside table and opened it without bothering to check the caller ID. "Hello?" he answered.

_"Jackson?"_ The voice, a familiar one, paused. _"Hey, um… it's Danny."_

That voice, the voice of his best friend from back home, brought Jackson up short, immediately seizing his attention. "Danny?" His eyes widened in surprise, and he grinned. "Well, it's about time! How's it going, man?"

_"I'm… I'm okay, thanks."_ Danny was silent for a moment. _"I, uh… I was actually calling to see if you were planning on coming back to Beacon Hills any time soon."_

"What?" Jackson frowned. "Dude, what are you talking about? Why would I want to come back to Beacon Hills?" He groaned, rubbing his forehead as his headache flared up again. "Look, what's this about? Just spit it out already; I haven't got all night."

_"Just shut up and listen, will you?"_ Danny snapped, in an uncharacteristically-forceful tone. That surprised Jackson; he wasn't used to his normally-relaxed friend behaving like that.

"Right… okay. Sorry." Jackson exhaled slowly. "Continue, please."

Danny sighed. _"Sorry, I didn't mean to snap at you. It's just… there's been a lot of bad stuff going on here lately. First a bunch of people got murdered a couple months back, then there was a bomb threat at the high school a few weeks ago, and then there were… the attacks this past week."_

"Oh, right, I saw something about that on the news yesterday," Jackson replied. "Some kind of gang violence or something, right?"

_"That's what the news is saying, yeah,"_ Danny replied. _"A bunch of guys in black, with swords and weird metal masks. They tore up a bunch of places all over town: the hospital, the high school, even the police station. A lot of people got hurt, and some…"_ He inhaled heavily. _"Some people were killed. My boyfriend's brother was one of them."_

Jackson's eyes widened in shock. "Oh, man… I'm sorry. Are you okay?" Normally, he didn't show sympathy like this, but Danny was one of the people who had always earned that sort of emotional support from him.

_"…Yeah, I'm all right. Ethan's really hurting, though; he and his brother spent their whole lives together, and now he's alone. I'm doing what I can to help, but…"_ Danny sighed. _"But… that's not why I called. They're having a memorial service at the school next week, for everyone who died during the attacks. And I figured you'd want to be there."_

That struck Jackson as odd. "Why's that? I mean, if you need me there for support or whatever, then sure, I can try to get there. But I'm not sure how much I can do."

" _Thanks, but… that's not it."_ Danny was silent for a long moment. _"The reason I think you should come is because you and I_ both _knew some of the people who died. One of them in particular."_

Jackson stiffened. He could feel the gravity of Danny's speech, and he knew that this was serious. Someone who he and Danny both knew, someone important to him, was dead. The first option that fit that description hit him like a train, and he froze, feeling a chill of terror rush through him.

"No," he whispered. "Danny, please, _please_ , tell me it's not Lydia. Is she okay? What happened?"

" _No, no, it's not Lydia,"_ Danny answered immediately, recognizing the rising panic in his friend's voice and trying to calm him down. _"She's okay; she's had her own problems to deal with lately, but she's all right. But…"_ He paused, leaving Jackson in a tense silence, and then resumed, _"But Lydia… she's actually one of the reasons I called you. She was there for you when all that crap was happening to you last year, so I think you should be here for her now."_

"Why?" Jackson felt that sinking feeling again. "If it's not Lydia, then… who is it?"

Danny was silent for a long moment, as if he was trying to bring himself to speak. Then, finally, his voice echoed over the phone, quiet and subdued. _"It's Allison, Jackson. She's dead."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, as the ending of this chapter indicates, this story has been taking place parallel to Season 3B of Teen Wolf, and we've now reached the end of the Season 3B plotline in Beacon Hills. I always wondered what Jackson's reaction would have been to the events of Season 3, specifically Scott's ascension to Alpha status and, as shown here, Allison's death, so I decided to explore that in this story. I also needed a reason to finally bring in the rest of the Beacon Hills cast into this story, which will be happening starting next chapter, as Jackson goes home to attend the memorial for Allison, Aiden, and the others who died during the events of Season 3B.
> 
> Next time, Jackson decides to go home to Beacon Hills, Frost and his companions start their quest to recover his memories, and Deucalion makes his presence known in Storybrooke… stay tuned!


End file.
